


Pressure Point

by vuas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Doctor/Patient, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Kylo Ren, F/M, Size Difference, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-03-02 23:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13328910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuas/pseuds/vuas
Summary: Rey’s new chiropractor is a tall man with strong, magic hands.Modern AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> INCREDIBLY SELF INDULGENT FIC AHEAD. I’m already laughing at myself so you don’t need to.

Rey’s stuck on the 71 in rush hour traffic, just barely inching across the bridge; the worst part of the whole situation is that the injury to her neck means she can’t bend over to fish out her earbuds from the bottom of her bag. She’s forced to listen to the ambient sounds of those around her on the bus; people shuffling, babies crying, those humming along with the music blasting through their earbuds.

She was determined to show up on time to her first chiropractor’s appointment. She had worked through lunch at Plutt’s Book Salvage and bounced an hour early after promising to work through the weekend.

It was just as well; she couldn’t go to kickboxing practice. She’d taken a dirty hit after decidedly not picking her battles at her last competition.

Of course, it had happened in the parking lot after the event, with some sleezeball in a tracksuit. He’d been making lewd comments about the other female competitors so Rey was within her rights, surely. She had just forgotten he was twice her size. Thinking things through had never been her strong suit.

So, after threatening to rip his head off and put it on a pike, Rey had lunged to shove the guy back and promptly slipped on a sheet of ice.

She’d fallen hard on her spine when her feet slipped out in front of her; winded, she scuttled on the ground for a bit before realizing she’d practically thrown out her neck like a little old lady.

Rey had hobbled miserably and refused any help for a few days before Finn shoved a cell phone with an operator of her health insurance company waiting on the line.

“First Order Chiropractic is the closest provider. First fifteen visits are free with your tier one plan,” says the bubble gum voice on the other end.

“Thanks,” Rey says, more to Finn than the girl she’s already hung up on.

“You’re always making me make you do this, Rey,” groans Finn. “What are you gonna do when I’m just dust and bones in the ground?”

“You are _not_ that much older than me, stop being so dramatic.”

“Fine,” he answered, collapsing on the dog-hair covered futon. “You can pay me back for taking care of you in Tres Rios.”

Rey grins. “I’ll throw in extra guac,” and then she’s already dialing the Mexican place around the corner.

* * *

 

Rey pulls open the door with some difficulty, though the receptionist looks unimpressed.

“Hi, uhm,” Rey rugs down her scarf. “Rey?”

“Fill this out,” the woman says, her pristine nails clicking on the clipboard Rey’s just been handed.

Rey turns to carefully shuffle across the room and sit down in reception, mindful of her neck—

“I’ll need your health insurance card,” the woman announces primly.

Rey stares with a raised eyebrow at the woman for a second before shuffling up and across the room again, digging for the card in the bottom of her bag. The silence drags on as Rey carefully puts the plastic card on the counter.

The woman stares at her computer.

“That will be all,” she announces, shooing Rey away.

* * *

_Not exactly a good start_ , Rey thinks. She’s alone in a strange limbo between reception and the actual room in which her appointment will take place. She’s dying without her earbuds but her neck is pounding with a persistent ache. The tension in her muscles was killing her. She can only hear the soft hum of fluorescent lightbulbs, piling on to the migrane at the base of her skull.

“Kenobi,” says a deep voice entirely too close to Rey’s ear. She jumps, her things clattering out of her lap.

“Oh shit,” she gasps, bending over without thinking.

“Oh _shit_ —“ Rey hisses, snapping back up to rub at her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry about that, you scared the hell out of me—“

A giant human hulks over, his hands brushing up her engineering textbooks. Rey blinks in surprise; when she and Finn had imagined a chiropractor, he had teased her endlessly about a wrinkled old man with sweaty hands touching her back.

This is a _pleasant_ surprise.

The man is entirely too attractive, his shirt sleeves rolled up at the elbows showing off the thick corded muscles over his forearms, ones that would likely be able to lift her up without so much as a grunt. His mouth is too plush, his hair too thick, his eyes too honey brown and liquid.

“Rey,” he says, standing up to tower over her. “I’m Doctor Ren.”

Rey’s mouth is suddenly not attached to her brain.

“Uh,” she says, trying to recall how words work. “Rey.”

He peers down at her through his fringe, thick brows knitting together. “Yes, I know.”

“Right,” Rey squeaks, patting her lap. “I mean it’s nice to meet you.” _Very nice_.

“I’m sure it’s not that nice. I’ve been told you injured your neck?”

Rey stands, following him into a room with a standard hospital bench. He’s huge, and she can’t get over it, practically drooling as she stares at his ass in those tight fitting grey dress trousers.

He stacks her textbooks on an empty chair in the corner. “I often get science students like you. Bad posture, too much reading with your back bent over.”

“Oh, I do. Bend over a lot.” Rey chokes suddenly, flushing. “Books, I mean. Uhm, that’s not exactly why I’m here though—“

He crams himself in a chair across the room, awkward and too large, shuffling his feet in front of him. Big feet, nice shoes, Rey notes as he flips through the pages of the questionnaire she’d filled out.

“Hurt my neck.” Rey mumbles, still not entirely recovered from her double entendre. “Slipped on ice.”

“Mhmm,” he rumbles, a deep sound that stretches down to her toes.

“I need you to take off your clothes,” he says next, lazily flicking his gaze back up to her.

Rey lets out a tiny sound she didn’t even know she was capable of.

“There’s a gown behind you to put on. I’ll do the examination next. You’ll need to take off _everything_ ,” he says sharply, standing and prowling closer to her. “Even jewelry. For the x-ray.”

Rey stares up at him, dizzy. She stands and tugs off her coat and scarf in haste to start getting off her too tight, too hot clothes.

“Feel free to wait for me to leave, Rey.”

Rey feels a flush crawl up her neck.

* * *

 

It’s freezing in only her gown and Rey squirms because her nipples are hard and sensitive against the scratchy material. She wants to cup them in her hands and squeeze if only to relieve some of the pressure in her belly.

There’s a solid knock on the door, opened only half a second later to reveal Dr. Ren ducking inside the room.

“Good girl,” he says, nodding to the gown, voice low. “Lie down.”

Rey’s heart contemplates giving out—she tries to tamp down the shiver that licks down into her abdomen.

“Cold?” He asks conversationally. Rey nods bleakly, swallowing as she moves to roll on her stomach.

He hovers over her for a moment, and Rey wants to squirm. Why, dear lord, is she wet _now_ of all times—

“ _Oh_!” She squeaks— Dr. Ren has placed a hot hand on her back and is sliding across her spine through in a gap in the gown.

“That usually helps with the cold,” he murmurs in her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. Most people are screamers, so you took it pretty well.”

Rey squishes her face in the pillow, biting down on her lip. God, she was going to have a long night in with her vibrator tonight.

He mutters to himself as he works his fingertips into the tendons and bones of her back. He rubs harder each time she tenses, and Rey flushes with embarrassment because she can almost hear him laughing. Is he teasing her?

He flattens his palm and drags his fingernails slightly, all the way up to her neck and Rey lets a whimper slide out.

He pauses, lightly pressing between her shoulder blades.

“Alright, Rey?”

“Uhm,” she stutters out with a shaky voice. “Just hurts a bit, you see?”

“I prefer to feel, but yes. You’re out of alignment , I can already tell from all that noise you’re making.”

Rey nods, not entirely trusting herself not to moan should she open her mouth.

“Ah,” he says, tensing his fingers ever so lightly around her neck. “ _Bad_ girl. Try not to do that, hm?”

“Uhm,” Rey breathes once out, feeling the press of his fingertips like hot iron. “Yes, Doctor.”

Rey is desperately not imagining those expert, agile hands, one on her lower back to keep her still, the other between her legs, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of her with gentle praise.

His movement are ginger now, a stark contrast to the near painful kneading he’d done on her her lower back. He rubs the pad of his thumbs on the line of bone leading up to her hairline, and then dips back down to trace the tendons leading to her shoulders. He hums at the bruise where she had been ground into the asphalt for her lack of foresight.

“You’ve jammed two or three nerves in your upper neck but it’s not too terrible. I’m going to take X-rays to confirm but we can start doing realignments as soon as tomorrow.”

Rey lets out a timid breath as he moves away to scribble something on his chart. The space between her thighs is throbbing painfully with unsaited need.

“If you do as I say,” he drawls, tapping a pen against his red mouth, “you’ll be feeling a lot better in about two months.” His mouth quirks into a little smile. “Are you good at following orders, sweetheart?”

Only 14 more visits to go.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to trash time where the porn is made explicit and the plot doesn’t matter
> 
> Ok but actually? Thanks for all the love on the first chapter. Every single comment makes me grin like a lunatic and it makes me so much more confident to post when I hear people a c t u a l l y tolerate my writing or god forbid even like it lol

The girl is, well, pretty. That’s all it is, Kylo assures himself. Most of his clientele consisted of the elderly, not college students with pink lips, a lilting accent and a tight ass.

Which he’d already gotten a pretty good view of, all things considered with the tiny gown.

After smiling and holding open the door for the girl leading her back to reception, he had to stop himself from standing there like an idiot and watching her shuffle away in a gigantic coat and scarf. Instead of swooning like a lovesick puppy, he sprinted to his office, nearly mowing down Mitaka. He was sweating under his collar at the thought of her being under eighteen and had breathed a sigh of relief and pumped the air when her file put her at twenty two.

He fantasizes for the twenty minutes he has before his next patient, most of it a catalogue of all the pretty sounds she had made under his hands. She’d been straining and blushing under his palms, a nervous little thing. That was ok, he’d teach her she had nothing to be afraid of.

His intercom buzzes and announces the next patient. He sighs, tugs at his collar and goes back to work.

* * *

 

“I’m not kidding, Poe. It was like looking at some Russian, bio-genetically engineered perfect sex god,” Rey says animatedly over a pitcher of cheap beer, miming her greasy pizza hands for someone at the table to give her a napkin.

“And you pay him to touch you? Will someone _please_ explain how this isn’t prostitution?” Rose quips over the blasting music of the bar, shoving a stack of paper napkins into her palm, stealing some of them for her own hands.

Finn howls with laughter. “He makes her _feel_ good—“

“Well for my health insurance premium he better put out,” Rey scowls back at them.

“ _Ohhhh, Doctor Ren, right there_ —“ Poe fake moans so loudly the students in the next booth over turn to stare at them openly.

“We can’t get kicked out of here again, please shut up. We’re already banned from Pub Corellia because you two had sex in the bathroom,” Rey groans, rubbing her temples.

“It was completely consensual,” Finn reminds them with a dainty sip of Bud Light.

“Not for the poor fake-ID freshman who walked in on you two!”

“No but seriously—do you want him? Cause you gotta have a plan. Step light. S’kinda weird with you being his patient and all. He might freak out,” Poe says quite seriously around a bite of pepperoni.

Rey contemplates, grimacing as she swallows the last of her lukewarm beer. The buzz has settled back in her stomach—god, what she’d give to go home to that tall man right now, have him press her down in his large, fluffy bed while she giggled beneath him and slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt—

“How much do chiros make in America?” Rey blurts, wanting her fantasy about his king sized mattress in his lavish apartment to be accurate.

Rose nearly spits out her drink. “You’re not marrying the guy—“

“I’ve got time! Fourteen appointments,” Rey announces, preening.

“You’re conventionally attractive,” Poe nods, “If he’s single and not gay I can’t see why he wouldn’t want to bang some college girl with an ass like yours.”

The waitress appears like a vision of college student wet dreams. “Another pitcher?”

The four of them cheer.

* * *

 

Rey is hungover and scowling at the sun like it’s the embodiment of Judas. In the winter it was worse; light reflected off the snow and ice and burned her corneas as she waited for the bus. She’d broken her last pair of sunglasses back in August at a drunken tailgate for the football team, so Rey was left squinting down at the sidewalk and contemplating why she was even friends with three obvious enablers.

When she gets dropped off at work she’s already thinking of her appointment later that day with Doctor Ren; her hands skitter on the computer, wrought with typos while her mind wanders.

Was it his hands or his mouth she liked best? Rey tilted her head slightly and considered. His hands were firm and conscious when they had touched her. But his lips—

Rey shivers.

She takes her break at noon and gets some much needed cold air by jogging down to the coffee shop a few blocks away and visiting Finn for caffeine.

“Hey Peanut!” Rey says cheerfully, leaning over the counter to spot Finn beneath it, hiding from customers by arranging the pastry drawer.

“Please don’t talk over 2 decibels,” he winces, squinting at her. “I think that waitress was trying to kill us.”

Rey raises an eyebrow. “Yes, she held you at gunpoint and demanded your life or the tequila shot—“

“Alright, alright, aren’t friends supposed to demonstrate empathy?”

“As it seems, I _too_ feel like absolute shite. Happy?”

“What time should I expect you home tonight after your romantic rendezvous? I was going to make rice and beans again—“

Rey goes pink. In her buzzed stupor last night she had said quite a lot about her new doctor, entirely more than she had planned too. It was just a crush, she reminded herself. He was a professional, he wasn’t actually interested in her.

He was just deadly attractive and probably had a big dick.

“—And you need to come up with a polite way to ask him to raw you—“

“ _FINN_!” Rey squeaks, slapping his shoulder.

He grins, shoving a small coffee over the counter along with a biscotti.

* * *

 

The rest of the day passes by in a blur, and Rey has suddenly found herself back at Doctor Ren’s. It’s a different room she’s been dropped off in this time by the overly tall icy blonde from the front desk (was being over six foot a requirement to work here?). This room, like the others is clean to a point and practically bare; save for the chiropractors table in the center, which was just a cushioned slab with a hole at the top presumably for her head. It was covered in a roll of the same stuff they used on hospital beds, that crinkly sanitary paper Rey had been so familiar with during her childhood.

She’s already changed into the gown, swinging her feet on the table when Ren appears like a wraith, slamming the door shut behind him and pausing to drag his eyes over her from head to toe.

“Hello, Miss Kenobi. How’s the shoulder?”

“Hi— uh, it’s alright. I iced it last night and took an Advil. Like you said.”

His mouth twitches. “Yes,” he murmurs. “Like I said.”

The room feels a lot smaller with him in it, Rey thinks. Suddenly her skin is tight and her heart is fluttering in her chest, distracting her from the main objective.

“So,” Rey says, attempting to look casual as she crosses her bare legs beneath the gown and squeezes her thighs together, repressing a happy sigh at the pressure. “Have you been doing this very long?”

Her eyes flick to the diploma tacked on the wall in a pristine frame. It says 2015, so perhaps he was only 27 at most—

“I’ve been practicing since I graduated three years ago—“

Rey turns to regard him and attempts to wipe the satisfied grin off her face. It would be less hard if he wasn’t that old—

“—But I spent a few years in the Marines beforehand.”

Rey winces at her strikeout. Alright, so a few years usually meant three, but sometimes five which meant he could be as old as thirty two.

And _why why why_ did her insides clench pleasantly at the thought? Rey breathes out a haggard puff of air.

“Had to learn some discipline,” he says, his eyes locked on her.

Rey suddenly feels naked even with the scrap of fabric between them.

“Lie down,” he nods at her. “On your stomach and try to keep still.”

Rey stretches her legs out behind her once she’s settled; Ren walks over, the click of his heels the only noise other than Rey’s erratic, tensed breathing. She braces herself as he hovers—

He starts by brushing her hair off the back of her neck and to the side; it curls against her cheek deliciously and her scalp tingles at the sensation. Rey goes stock still, attempting to calm her overloaded brain.

“Relax,” he hums, his deep voice way too close to her ear.

Rey slowly ungrits her teeth and does just that, limb by limb until her body feels like a rag doll. She’s suddenly aware of how tensely she’d been holding herself from the weight of her head on the injured nerves; the pillow holds the weight for her now and it feels so good to let go.

“Good,” he says with a strangely heated tone that Rey’s only ever heard in the bedroom.

Rey softly sighs out; he’s pressing firmly with both palms flat on either side of her spine, compressing her lungs to a near point of struggle before letting her up again. He hums something that sounds vaguely good and proceeds to work two fingers between a a slot of bone in her upper back, rubbing up and down with a sort of pressure that’s far past gentle.

“When you hurt your neck,” he starts, sliding his hands down her spine, precariously close to the top of her ass, “you started holding the weight of your head by using in other places on your spine to compensate. Which is why we do adjustments to the entire back.”

His fingers settle in on her tailbone; he cups her hips in his rather massive hands and presses his thumbs in hard and down; Rey swallows a moan again because that feels entirely too good. And quite a bit like being bent over to be taken from behind with his hands holding her still for his thrusts.

“The human head weighs around ten pounds, but when you hold it at an angle your body isn’t designed for, the resulting pressure is closer to almost double that.”

“Big brain,” Rey attempts a joke but it comes out very high pitched and stilted because he’s now massaging his thumbs into her lower back muscles. Rey’s heard of tantric sex before and good god, this must be pretty damned close. The feeling is something akin to being on the edge of orgasm; sharp and sweet enough to steal the air from her lungs.

“You’ll need to be mindful of your posture during all this,” he says, slightly too breathy. “No bending over for anyone else but me, really—“

Rey promptly chokes on her spit and mutters an apology.

“And use a backpack rather than that tote.”

“Right,” Rey nods, rubbing her cheek on the paper despite the slight tingle of pain the movement causes.

His hand comes up to cup the back of her skull and press her face lightly down while he clicks his tongue. “And stop nodding, like _I told you to_.”

Rey is most certainly not breathing right now and the lack of oxygen is not helping her brain make coordinated decisions.

“Sorry,” she whispers, feeling every inch of the hand he’s left on her lower back. It’s twitching, and Rey’s mind goes somewhere dirty involving him hauling her up and over his lap for a spanking before she can stop it.

“This next part will be loud, but it’s normal,” he says brusquely, carefully slotting his palms on either side of her spine again. “I’m going to adjust the section between your shoulder blades and it’ll likely crack.”

Rey, to her credit, does not nod but her noise of affirmation is of the more dirty variety, a high pitched sound in the back of her throat.

“Deep breath out, sweetheart,” he says and then—

Rey hisses sharply at the release of pressure just as her bones shift. The resulting feeling is a sharp, incredibly pleasurable half burn right up the middle of her back that makes Rey tremble; she blinks wetly at the floor in shock.

“ _Ah_ ,” she says softly, breathing in again.

“Feels good, hm?” And Jesus that voice was sinfully deep—also, right by her ear, close enough that he could nip at her neck if he wanted to.

Rey, wisely does not arch her back up and beg him to fuck her; she’s certainly wet enough now that he could probably work himself into her without much resistance. Her face flushes when she imagines how pleased he’d be that she was so tight and willing.

Good _god_ , she needed to get laid.

“Do you want me to keep going, Rey?”

“Yes,” she shakes out. “ _Please_.”

“You ask so nicely,” he says softly, sliding his hands up higher, right to the top curve in her spine. “Lovely girl.”

He does the rest of her back in quick thrusts, instructing her when to breathe in and out; Rey squirms and pants when he’s done with the onslaught, wiggling against the table with the aftershocks as her synovial fluid settles.

“Roll over on your back. You’ll need to spread your legs a little for me, but keep them straight.”

Rey goes red to the tips of her ears— _did this guy hear himself talk_? But she rolls over without protest and parts her thighs, squinting up at the lights on the ceiling. The air is cool on her wet pussy, and Rey becomes startlingly aware of the delicate skin down there.

He moves into her peripheral vision, his face a dark moon against the light.

“Now we’ll do your neck. It might be,” he pauses here salaciously, “a bit more...painful, but I’ll make you feel much better.”

“Oh-Kay,” she says, squirming a bit when he reaches down to brush his warm fingers beneath her jaw.

He starts by loosely digging his fingers into the tendons on the side of her neck, then cups the lower half of her skull and lightly brushes his thumbs against her ears. He lets out a soft puff of air and then stretches his fingers out, nails scraping slightly against her skin. Rey squeezes her eyes shut, suddenly remembering all of those daily mail articles about chiropractors paralyzing their patients.

“Rey, you need to relax for me,” he reminds her gently.

Rey blinks up at him and tries, but she’s still shivering with her head held in his hands. He gives her a flat look, pursing his lips.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, forcing her brain to let her body go slack.

The movement is so quick Rey doesn’t have time to panic; it’s twice as fast as the alignments on her back. His forearms brush her head as he twists sharply—

The resulting crack makes her eyes roll back as she gasps; her neck hasn’t moved like that in weeks. She shivers again, feeling ridiculous, but the white hot looseness of the whole thing is too nice.

“Satisfied?” He asks, his lips set in a smirk above her.

_Not yet_ , she nearly retorts out loud thinking of the burning ache to be touched between her thighs. How long would he take to get her off, she wondered? A minute or two? Her clit is throbbing, demanding she take pity and start rubbing.

“One more on the other side, then I’ll send you on your way. Can you take it?”

Rey swallows loudly. She is going to masturbate to that lovely voice tonight, and probably through the weekend, whimpering in her bed. Her next appointment wasn’t till Monday, and that suddenly seemed like a long time to go without being touched by Doctor Ren.

“Oh and Rey? I _throughly_ enjoy an eager patient, but for the rest of the appointments you can keep your underwear on.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *rolls out of ur local dumpster* what’s up kids it’s time for filth
> 
> Also FYI I’m taking suggestions for this fic so feel free to have fun in the comments and I’ll see what I can do ;)

The girl is going to give him a heart attack. She had stretched out like a kitten at the last session, baring smooth, tan skin for him to touch, and touch he did; she wasn’t wearing a bra. Hardly needed one with those perky little tits anyway.

The lack of panties had been a welcome surprise that had made him nearly keel over. Perhaps he should look into writing a will before she returned; Rey was obviously attempting to kill him.

Dear god, the sounds she had made had gone straight to his cock. Little keening whimpers, sharp pants as she drew breath. This was worse than playful teasing: it was straight sexual torment.

Sure, maybe he had brought it upon himself when he had gotten a little rough with his hands; but he had just cause. He had needed to see how hard he had to press until she moaned. It was worth it.

He tries to school his mind into taking the work on his desk seriously; he had forms from insurance companies to fill out, x-ray results to scrutinize. But his desk was the worst godamned place to do actual work; he’d come here after each previous session with Rey insanely turned on and now it was a near Pavlovian response. He can’t stop thinking about those soft gasps she had made, but twisted even better by his imagination putting her under his desk, between his legs while he leaned back.

Ah, she’d look so sweet on her knees, sucking him off. Sweeter still on her back, crying out as he softly lapped at her clit. She’d make those hitched noises, little hands fisted in his hair right as she whimpered his name—

The door bangs open and Kylo jumps just as Hux breezes in with lab results.

“I haven’t gotten a response from the clinical nerve regeneration study—“

“Hux, are you allergic to knocking?”

“—And the NIH grant manager is asking for a progress report. That was supposed to be sent three weeks ago.”

“I don’t see why I need to be involved. I just see patients, Hux. The research is supposed to be—“

Hux drops another folder on his desk and sniffs. “All. I ever ask of you. Is to sign. The papers. It’s not that difficult, Ren.”

Kylo carefully picks up the newest delivery.

“I collect the data, I draw up the paperwork, I apply for funds and now I have to do the _damned accounting_ —“

“I thought we had an accountant?”

Hux looks like his head is going to explode right from between his prim shoulders. “ _You_ fired him last week! For _breathing_ too close to you!”

Kylo frowns thoughtfully. That _did_ sound vaguely familiar.

“I am taking tomorrow through the weekend off. You’ll need to come in early to open up and prepare the schedule for the day—“

“Alright.”

“—I mean it, you really need to show up promptly at six— _wait, really_?” Hux looks agast. It wasn’t very often they agreed and it appeared the shock was putting Hux in an early retirement.

Kylo glances up. “Yes, I’m not a child. I can run my own practice for a day or two.” He is technically just trying to find the path of least resistance that would make Hux leave as quickly as he came.

Hux opens and closes his mouth several times before sniffing and stalking away. “Well, you’ll have to stay late too. Until seven, and be sure to lock up after your last appointment, Kenobi.”

Kylo jerks at the name but Hux already has his back to him.

“And make sure to water the plants!”

* * *

 

Mondays are long for Rey; she has thermodynamics and fluid mechanics in the morning, work starting at twelve and then recitations in the afternoon. Afterwords she has to finish her calc three homework, nibbling on an apple under her desk in the library (no food was allowed on the third floor with the rare book collection—but the entire level was covered with plants in every nook and cranny and thus was Rey’s favorite place to study).

The third floor was nearly empty; a few classics students were diligently transcribing notes from books nearly five times as old as they were, but most of the chairs remained empty and Rey was largely alone in her corner save for her calculator. Her mind began to drift as she tapped her pencil against her lips; Doctor Ren crammed into the chair next to her, pushing a hand through his dark hair as he read a book, their knees brushing beneath the table.

Or better yet, perhaps she would sit in his lap. Right between his thick thighs, leaning against his warm chest. She would be attempting to finish her homework as his hands ran down her sides, a soft huff telling her to hush as his fingers slipped just below the waistband of her leggings and she’d whimper and he’d tell her to be good—

Someone slams a heavy manuscript on a table a few feet away, and Rey’s startled jerk leaves a huge pencil mark across the entire page.

The weekend, despite Saturday evening’s drunken stumbling with her friends at the bars, had been quiet. Rey had gotten her money’s worth out of her vibrator between assignments, definitely _not_ biting her pillow and gasping _his_ name. She’d even nearly texted a boy she’d had a one night stand with last semester, if only to relieve the pressure.

She’d been hovering over the send button with the flirty text all typed out when nerves had gotten the best of her. The boy was cute and had gotten her off alright but—

—it was incomparable to the thrill of Doctor Ren. He was too tall, his hands too big. And Rey knew, just knew, she was absolutely ruined for anything other than that dulcet voice telling her how good she was for him.

She was, of course, _furious_.

Rey would not be suffering alone in all of this. She’d make sure of it.

So she bounces back to her apartment right before her chiro appointment to shower; she shaves everything, perilously balanced on the ridge of the tub—then moisturizes from head to toe with something fragrant.

She digs around in her underwear drawer right to the very bottom, past last Christmas’s gag gift with tiny porgs on them. There they were, underneath her sports bras; her _I’m-getting-laid-dammit_ underwear. Black lace, sweet enough to eat. They covered the basics but left an enormous swath of her skin out for the viewer. The cloth gathered in the back in a tiny pink bow.

She pauses in front of the mirror after slipping on the matching bralette, turning slightly to inspect her behind. She hadn’t been kickboxing in awhile, but the lean muscle was determined to stay it seemed. This would certainly get his attention.

Rey smiles sultry over her shoulder with a toss of her hair before promptly getting some in her eye on accident, sputtering around half naked and bumping into her desk.

* * *

 

Kylo swallows, fairly sure he’s going into cardiac arrest. Apparently she’d taken his advice to heart about the underwear.

It was a little delicious sight; soft feathery lace, sharp black against her soft, tanned skin. It curves over her ass, accentuating the pleasant roundness of it. There’s a little bow on the back like a bunny tail. Very spankable. What sound would she make then?

The delicate fabric disappears right between her thighs—from what he can see through the tiny gap in the gown.

“Everything ok, Doctor?”

“Yes, of course,” he chokes out, ripping his eyes away from the very lovely view. Was that smugness in her tone?

 _Little minx._ Surely she knew what she was doing. He settles his hands just above her tailbone and starts by pushing in with his thumbs the way she likes. He smiles when she whimpers.

Rey pushes back.

Oh—

 _Oh_.

Kylo’s mouth goes dry; Rey is arching her back ever so slightly and pushing her ass up at him, the ridges of black lace clearly visible through the white gown. It’s ridden up her legs slightly, baring more thigh than decent.

Rey lets out a tiny, pleased sigh and stretches beneath him, spreading her knees slightly.

He’s fairly sure his soul leaves his body when he hears an accompanying tiny slick sound just as she moves her legs apart.

Kylo suddenly finds himself believing there is a god. And that god loved Kylo very much, enough to deliver him this lovely treat.

“ _Rey_ ,” he hisses warningly at her, the sharp throb of his cock against his thigh nearly unbearable.

Rey lifts her head, folding her arms on the table and turning to peer at him, her hair tumbling over her shoulderblades.

“Yes, Doctor Ren?”

The stare down is intense—Kylo raises an eyebrow but Rey only flutters her eyelashes in response and slowly peeks her tongue out from her teeth to swipe against her bottom lip.

“Lie down properly.”

He accentuates the command with a bold hand right on her bottom, pressing her back to the table. His voice sounds a lot more confident than he feels, but the little pout she gives with that pretty mouth is worth it as she settles back down.

Fine. She wants to play like this?

“Tight today,” he says, aiming for casual while firmly rubbing her lower back.

“Uhm,” she answers, soft sounds in time with the press of his fingertips. “I’m always pretty— _ah_ —tight.”

“I’m sure, little thing like you,” he murmurs, his clothes beginning to feel too hot.

He encircles his hands over her tiny waist; he could probably lift her up just like this if he tried. Instead, he rubs his thumbs in gentle circles on the muscles on either side of her spine, ever so gently edging his fingertips around her front, down to brush the lace of her panties.

Rey, shameless, lets out another little sound and lifts her bottom again—he could probably slide a hand beneath her belly like this, right beneath her underwear which he would undoubtedly find damp. One of his bolder fingers traces the skin of her abdomen, just beneath the lace. Rey’s hips twitch towards it ever so slightly. Poor thing needed to be taken care of, it seemed.

How long would it take to make her come on his table, in his office? He’d settle his weight over her, kneeling on the table, on hand on the small of her back. The gown would be conveniently gone. She’d squirm when his searching hand reached into her underwear, tell him that she wanted his cock when he finds she’s soaking wet. He’d smile, grind into her pert little ass as his slick fingers work slowly over her clit, making her beg for it—

Some small but _very_ smart part of his brain alerts him to the fact that if he keeps up that trail of thought he would likely come in his trousers. He grunts and settles back down to work.

He presses firmly on a sore spot with his thumb, a new bruise on her waist he’d noticed earlier; Rey yelps and jerks beneath him.

“Ah, what happened here?”

“Tripped onto my desk last night,” she says under her breath, obviously irritated.

“Hm, you need to be more careful. I’ll be forced to tie you up in the evenings if you can’t.”

That’s a nice image, Kylo hums to himself pleasantly. Soft padded hand cuffs? Or silky rope? Or, Ah, perhaps he could finally get use out of his old tie collection. She’d be so pretty, trembling on his bed—or maybe bent over his desk—with her limbs pulled apart for him. No place to hide as he moved over her, so tiny in comparison.

Rey has gone very quiet. Kylo watches the soft rise and fall of her back, but there’s no retort.

He takes a deep breath and slides his hand up the length of her spine, taking a step towards the upper half of the table. He cups the back of her neck lightly before ever so carefully dragging a hand into the thickness of her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp. He hears her gasp even with her head still turned down.

“Rey,” he says, voice soft. “Sweetheart.”

She shudders at the endearment the same way she does each time.

“Look at me.”

Rey rolls over, blinking up at him. Her face is flushed as if she’s already been defiled and she’s biting her lip again, peering at his face shyly. The gown gaps at the collar, too large on her, slipping down a freckled shoulder. His eyes are drawn to a shock of black—a tiny bra strap.

Perfect. Exquisite torture. He’d want her more a mess than that when he was done with her, exhausted and pliant.

“You’ll need to begin your physical therapy exercises this afternoon. Lots of stretching. I’ll help you with some of the _harder_ ones.”

Rey, his silly girl, _nods_ , staring up at him wordlessly.

Hm. That won’t do.

Kylo crouches down beside the table, reaching up a hand to cup the underside of her jaw and stretch his fingers out before sliding down slightly to her throat.

“What have I told you about _that_?” He says, miming a nod. He presses his thumb firmly into the softness above her windpipe, the babysoft skin under her chin.

He feels her shift anxiously against his grip. Her lips are parted slightly, eyes dilated.

“Uhm,” she breathes out. “Not to. I’m sorry, Doctor. I forgot. Just habit.”

“But you can remember underwear?” He says slowly, tone teasing. “Do you often make lace a habit?”

Rey lets out a soft little _oh_ , her breath tickling his face.

“No,” she whispers.

“Just for me, then?”

She bites her lip, a flush crawling down her lovely neck.

“Good,” he says, trying to keep a possessive growl out of his voice.

Rey blinks up at him, and he can’t resist inching up his hand and pressing a thumb against her lips, dragging them apart slightly and pressing into the plush skin; he feels the little minx flick her tongue ever so slightly against him.

“How can I be sure you’ll remember to stop with that filthy nodding habit?”

Rey swallows, eyes flicking over his face. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something, Doctor,” she answers with a bare whisper. And sure enough, the velvet heat of Rey’s tongue firmly wets the pad of his thumb just before she nips it with her little teeth.

Kylo slides a hand up into her hair, gently fisting a handful of her honey brown locks. Rey’s eyes flutter shut and she tilts her head back slightly, as much as she can with her injury.

He rocks forward and presses a light kiss to the crook of her jaw—Rey keens at the sensation, his mouth hot on her cold skin.

“Next time, I want you to wear red,” he murmurs, lips brushing her ear. “Red lace. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why was I put on this earth to write trash anyways please enjoy

Rey isn’t sure exactly how she ended up at the mall; her dirty brain, the part that was desperately clinging to Doctor Ren’s request regarding her underwear, had somehow managed to convince Poe to drive her and Finn there for the afternoon rather than let them suffer on the bus.

Rey is attempting to appear nonchalant after shoeing away several bubblegum Victoria’s Secret employees; she had found the lacy-sexy-very-much-not-practical section just fine on her own. She was rifling through a drawer of smalls, making a pile of all the red pairs she could find. She was just going to buy one, but it needed to be perfect.

“So you _are_ seeing someone,” Finn hisses accusatorially in her ear; he had apparently returned from the electronics store with his new charger. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Rey whirls around, shoving the pile of red underwear behind her. “What? That’s—you always assume the extreme! You’re being ridiculous!” She says, voice high pitched. Several other customers have turned around now to watch the exchange, mildly amused. “I can’t just happen to buy new knickers for myself? Finn, really. You are delusional sometimes. Spinning imaginary tales just for the fun of it. You are such a gossip. It’s—its—“ Rey opens and closes her mouth for a few beats. “ _Shameful_!” She sniffs, crossing her arms over her chest, attempting to project authority.

There’s a long silence during which Finn raises an eyebrow. “You done yet?”

Rey swallows and tries again. “It’s...not what you think?” It really wasn’t, after all. How was she going to explain the strange heat of Doctor Ren’s request? Rey had kept her mouth shut since the night she had drunkenly rambled on about the older man, embarrassment keeping her from telling them what had transpired at the second session. It was too intimate; Rey wasn’t sure there were words to explain what was happening between herself and her chiropractor.

Her neck _was_ feeling much better, though.

Finn makes a long, dramatic show of rolling his eyes. “Fine. You can keep your secret for a little longer if you’d like. But we’ll get it out of you eventually.”

“And if you want to impress him, then those are your best bet.” He flicks the elastic band of a tiny scrap of fabric from the top of the pile at her face; Rey snatches it out of the air and inspects them. They’re nearly transparent at the back, lined generously with fluffy lace and—

 _Crotchless_ , apparently, because there’s a trim little gap in the make of the thing right where her slit would be.

“Oh, Uhm—“ Rey says, feeling her face turn completely red. “These are a bit daring for me.”

“And expensive. We’re not at Costco picking up a sixteen pack of Fruit of the Loom, Rey, do you want to get laid or not?”

“Please stop saying stuff like that in public. People are going to call mall security and then I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you when you get chased by grown men on segways.”

Still she wasn’t sold; they were inordinately out of her price range. Rey had worked extra hours last week and earned some pocket money, so she had been planning to buy a matching bra as well, but that now seemed unlikely. Yet for some reason, she’s sure Doctor Ren won’t exactly mind if she comes without one.

* * *

 

Kylo was feeling fifteen again; he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her pretty face, all screwed up with tension, her soft skin, her perfect shoulders, her peach-shaped ass. That soft voice—although his arousal spiked painfully each time he heard her say “ _Doctor Ren_ ,” aloud, she called him by his first name in his afternoon fantasies. Rey was a work of art that he could presumably spend all day thinking about if he didn’t have work to do.

And she was all his; she’d made that perfectly clear in the last session but he’d been hesitant, even with raging need demanding he take her to his office and defile her on top of a pile of x-rays.

She was still his patient, so he’d consulted the very small part of his brain still capable of thinking logically around her. In the end, he had reluctantly told her at the door to sleep on it, heart clenching when her face fell and she quickly scurried away like a desert mouse.

There was also the fact that she was only twenty-two and was conveniently going to the university his Uncle was the president of.

He resolves not to think about it too hard; surely there were enough degrees of separation there to protect her academic integrity. After all, Kylo hardly had anything resembling influence over the old bearded kook.

She was coming back this afternoon and each time he remembered his heartbeat spiked and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from grinning (he’d caught himself earlier smiling at a patient who had proceeded to go pale and uneasy, the woman asking him if he was feeling alright). Unlike his nightmare which he’d woken up from in a cold sweat that morning, Rey hadn’t called that afternoon and informed him she would be going to another specialist.

Kylo jumps when the phone rings and snatches it before the sound could stop echoing around the room, but it’s just Hux, his scathing, tinny voice interrogating him about invoices. He inwardly groans and looks at the clock. Only three hours to go.

* * *

 

  
At six forty-five, Kylo is watering Hux’s African violets in the front lobby, definitely _not_ looking out the window and watching for her arrival. His eyes flick between the water level on the saucer and the sidewalk, where pedestrians are mulling around in the wind, all looking identical in winter coats.

 _There_ —a thick beige scarf peeks out from a coat, undeniably Rey. Kylo dumps the rest of the water haphazardly and sprints back to his office to coax his wayward hair into something less chaotic.

The buzzer rings, and he takes a deep breath before grabbing the front door keys and prowling down the hallway.

His mouth quirks into a smile when he spots her little face in the window; she takes a few steps back so he can unlock the door and let her in with a gust of wind; Rey winds off her scarf as he locks the door again with a sharp level of finality.

“Hi,” she says shyly, her eyes flicking over his face and back down to her nervous hands a few times as if looking at him for too long would burn her.

“Hello,” he says softly. “Rey.”

She reaches up to unzip her coat, but Kylo suddenly feels emboldened by her presence. He reaches out and gently bats her hands away from the zipper, pausing to look at her face. She technically hasn’t given him a verbal answer, though returning alone (without the police) seemed good enough.

But her face is a lovely shade of pink, her little tongue dragging on her bottom lip. She’s watching his hands near her throat, eyes dilated, holding her breath. She did want this, and she wanted it _bad_.

Good thing he was entirely willing to take care of her.

One of her hands comes up to wrap around his wrist; her fingers are dainty and hardly go around the width of it. Her skin is still cold from outside, and he’s burning up in comparison.

“Warm,” she sighs, squeezing slightly.

He unzips her coat for her, and she lets it fall down around her shoulders, blinking up at him now, head tilted.

She’s wearing a dress.

He tries to wrap his head around it, but it’s too much; the deep vee in the front skimming the tops of her little breasts, the cinched cloth at her tiny waist. It’s short enough to be indecent, several inches of thigh peeking out at him. She wasn’t completely without self preservation in the cold weather, having paired it with a thick cardigan, knitted socks and high leather boots.

He’s not sure how long he stands there, staring at her. It feels not long enough when she huffs out a laugh, forcing his gaze back up to her face.

She smirking, looking like she’s got a secret, and that’s when he remembers; the red lace. Little minx knew, showing up like a treat to be unwrapped.

He hangs up her coat and scarf, taking a moment to thank whatever diety had deemed him worthy before turning back to her and taking a step closer.

He slides his fingers under her jaw; their difference in height more apparent this close. She barely reaches his collarbone, so he tilts her head up and gently coaxes the collar of her dress to the side, sliding it down to expose her shoulder a bit. She hums at the fabric moving against her skin.

“How’s the neck?” He asks, prodding soft fingertips into the muscle there.

“Better,” she says, voice hitched. “Good, actually.”

“Doesn’t hurt?”

“Uhm,” she pauses, blinking rapidly. “A little sore, but it’s not painful.”

“Sore,” he nods to himself. _When I’m done with you, you will be_ , he thinks sardonically.

Her mouth is angled towards his expectantly; she’s practically straining beneath him so he takes pity on her and closes the distance.

She makes a little pleased sound when their mouths meet, warm and solid, fisting the front of his shirt and yanking on his tie when he licks at the seam of her mouth. He crushes her body up against him, one arm wrapped around her waist to pull her up to a reasonable height.

She keens and melts against his front, slotting her mouth urgently against his with a sharp level of desperation. On her toes she sways a bit without proper purchase, and she slips slightly, pulling apart for a gasp of air. Her lips are a worried red now, probably the same color as her panties—

He grabs her upper arm and half drags her back to the examination room, out of sight in the lobby where anyone walking by could see. She giggles, of all things, high on the headyness of it all, and the girlish sound goes entirely to his cock.

He slams the door shut, and presses her up against it. Rey smiles at him, looking mischievous as she loops an arm around his neck.

“Nobody else is here. Take off that dress.” He growls out the order, squeezing her waist.

Her eyes go wide again and he watches her swallow nervously.

He takes slow steps backwards until his knees hit the lone chair in the room, settling back in it to anchor himself. He’s never been so turned on in his life. Perhaps he should wait until he could have her in his bed—

Rey slips the dress from her shoulders and lets it flutter to the floor, and it becomes very apparent that he’s not going to last until the drive back to his apartment.

She pauses, slightly shy again, winding her arms around herself. Her little tits are exactly as he imagined, only better; they softly bunch up in her crossed arms, her pink nipples peaked in the cold air. He can only imagine the squeak she’d make as he sucked them between his lips. There’s a hardly decent scrap of red fabric clinging to her hips. Little thing had remembered, apparently.

“No gown?” She asks, half playful, half hopeful.

“None for you anymore, I’m afraid.”

She takes a step towards him but he clicks his tongue and flicks a finger towards the table instead. “Lie down.”

She looks confused and doesn’t move at first, as if she had expected to be fully ravished the moment the door closed. Unfortunately, Kylo is not that kind.

“Don’t you want to be rewarded for being good? You did exactly as I told you to. Red lace.”

She moves very eagerly to the table at that, draping herself across it and wriggling slightly, unable to keep herself still in all of her excitement.

He crosses the room and stills her with a hand on her lower back, pressing hard on her tailbone and keeping her flat, even though she tries to arch back into his hand.

He flicks the elastic of her underwear hard against her bottom, rucking it down slightly just to see the curve of her ass. Rey squeaks and jerks her hips, turning to look at him over her shoulder with an attempt at a frown—

But in fact, Kylo thinks, the realization dawning on him, she looks guilty and sweet. Filthy girl had _liked_ it.

Experimentally he slides a hand over one cheek and grips it; Rey’s eyes flutter softly at the treatment, and she quickly turns her head away before she thinks he can see the beginning of a pleased expression.

“There is one thing though,” he says slowly, watching her squirm at the sound of his voice. “I haven’t forgotten about you nodding the other day after I explicitly asked you not to. Shameless thing you are.”

 _Oh_ , she breathes out.

“You asked me what I was going to to about it, right?”

“Y-yes.”

“How many?”

He slides his hand up to her hair and gently pulls her head back; Rey is now red in the face and nearly teary eyed with frustration. She swallows again; she clearly knows he’s asking how she wants to be spanked.

He watches her squeeze her thighs together. “Three?” She asks, brows pinched.

He raises an eyebrow, and Rey shivers beneath his hand. “Just three?” He coaxes.

She looks back at him more resolutely. He smiles and leans forward to kiss her brow, then dips towards her neck, pressing his mouth against the skin there.

“Just three,” He says cheerfully, standing. He could work with that, there was plenty of time in the future to make her really squirm.

He cups her ass again, bunching up the fabric. She jerks in anticipation beneath him. “It’s alright, just relax,” He soothes.

He lifts one hand; Rey tenses and whines at the sharp contact when his hand cuts through the air and back down to her ass. The sound is sharp but it wasn’t particularly hard, he rubs the slowly reddening skin and flicks his eyes back to where Rey is trembling.

“Good girl,” he praises, watching her hitched shoulders slowly relax.

The next one is quick too; he hears her take a sharp breath and then hiss as he drags a hand over her abused skin. “Only one more. You can do it.”

Rey blinks back at him teary-eyed. Oh, what a pretty thing that is, with her hair all mussed and her mouth still ravaged from kissing. His brave girl hiccups, “‘M alright.”

He smiles kindly, bending to press a kiss just above the elastic of her panties. “I’m sure, sweetheart.”

The last one he makes quick and without much strength behind it since she’s already worked up; this time her body jerks away with a cry and she pulls her knees up slightly just as he grabs her hips to make a soothing noise and tell her how good she is—

That’s when he notices that her underwear is distinctly lacking a _very_ important part.

His brain turns in its resignation and decidedly gives up thinking for a full minute or two; when his soul returns to its physical shell he’s pleased to note that his hand is gently rubbing her back while she comes down and slipping praise into her ear while Rey blinks wetly back at him.

However, he needs to confirm the sight of her sweet cunt; he hooks a finger into the crotch of her underwear and pulls the fabric from her skin, and he nearly startles all over again at the sight; she’s dripping wet, the lace damp and her skin gleaming with it.

“So you did like that, hm?” He’s trying not to sound too pleased but it’s difficult because his blood feels like fire.

Rey gulps. “Mhm,” she replies, closing her eyes when he brushes a knuckle against her slit.

“You took that very well,” he says, voice hoarse with lust. “Do you want me to make you come, sweetheart?”

“Ye-esss, Doctor Ren,” she hisses out, canting her hips back to find his finger again.

Kylo can’t breathe so he reaches up to loosen his tie; she’s peering at him over her shoulder, little hands fisted in the cushion.

Rey is trembling when he stands again. “Please?” She whispers, her hips rocking down ever so slightly and probably providing no relief.

“Stay still, no squirming,” he chides, bending down to inspect between her thighs again. He uses both thumbs to pull the damp fabric apart at the convenient little gap and inspect her cunt; it’s pink and perfect, soft skin made so slick that it’s honeyed the inside of her thighs.

The angle isn’t quite right for him to lick it up with out bending awkwardly over her but he does it anyway; he starts slow at the very tops of her thighs and works his way inwards until Rey is a shaking, whimpering mess.

He lifts his head and wipes his chin on his shirt, licking his lips and peering down at her; Rey’s eyes are so dilated that they’re nearly black, and her breath is coming in short little gasps. She looks like she’s _aching_.

Rey’s legs jerk when he laps softly at her clit; the moan that slips out of her as he buries his head down is indecent, and Kylo is very glad that Hux took the week off; his girl apparently didn’t know how to come quietly.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , please, Doctor Ren, I can’t—“

He slides a hand under her belly and tilts her hips up, moving in earnest.

“Yes you can,” he murmurs, pressing an open mouthed kiss against her clit before moving in with his tongue again; Rey’s thighs quiver and she makes a high pitched noise.

She’s close, if her noises are anything to go by; infinitely sweeter than the sounds she made when he aligned her back. He lifts his face and Rey cries at the loss, but he hushes her and replaces the contact with his thumb, grinding over her slick skin faster than he can with his mouth.

“Please, please,” she chants, back arching as she tries to work her hips into the table. “I’m— _oh_!”

But her voice cuts off just as her legs shake; he works her through it with a free hand sliding up her spine and squeezing her shoulder. She’s pretty, mouth opening soundlessly when she orgasms, eyes squeezed shut. Rey sobs, resting her forehead on the table when she’s done, Kylo pressing kisses against the back of her neck.

He slides two fingers into her, and Rey takes them with only a soft whimper, poor thing overworked and sensitive now.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grabbing her hips and sliding her to the end of the table so she’s bent over it, toes scraping the ground. He grabs her ruined underwear and rucks them down to her knees, baring her wet cunt to him.

He hardly even has time to take off his trousers; he lets them pool at his feet as he squeezes a hand around his cock before nudging it against her, stealing some of her slick to ease the way. Rey pants as he works it into her—

“ _God_ , you’re fucking tight—“ he hisses, letting his hips slide forward and squeezing her waist.

“I— _Ah_!—told you,” Rey moans and wiggles back against him at the stretch.

He groans—yesterday seemed so long ago. There’s just Rey and her sweet begging now.

He’s not going to last anyway so he swallows and starts moving; perhaps a bit too quickly because Rey yelps as his cock slides the entire way inside her.

“Ah!” She whines, “fuck, you’re—“

“I know you fantasized about me taking you like this,” he hisses, wrapping an arm around her front and pulling her up, arching her back. “Was it the first visit? Did you want to bend over for me?”

Rey nods miserably, hiccuping with each thrust. “Yes, y—yesss—“

“Naughty girl, getting wet for me like you did,” he moans, pumping harder. “Did you touch yourself after you went home? Did you make yourself come and pretend it was me?”

Rey whimpers. “Yes— I wanted you to fuck me— nobody else—“

 _Fuck_. He grips her waist so hard it’s going to bruise just as he comes, painting her cunt with it as he tries to grind as deep as possible into her. Rey claws at the arm wrapped around her as she takes it.

He pants as he slides out of her; he feels dizzy with saited tension. Rey is boneless beneath him, her skin red where he’s been rough with her.

When he’s gathered himself up again he picks her up despite her lazy protests and he relishes the feeling of cradling her against his chest. He nuzzles at her head with his lips in her hair and carries her back down the hallway to his office where the space heater is still determinedly humming. He puts her down in his chair and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll go fetch your clothes.”

When he returns, he realizes that Rey had found the machine that was the only source of heat in the room; she had curled up in front of it like a kitten, smiling delightedly at his return in a way that made his chest tight. Kylo comes to sit down behind her, chest to back, bracketing her in with his legs.

“I don’t know your first name,” she hums, tipping her head back so his chin bumped her forehead. She looks embarrassed at the fact that they truly barely knew each other, so he cups his hands over her shoulders and squeezes as comfortingly as he can.

“Kylo.”

“Kylo,” she echoes with a soft smile. “Kylo Ren.”

He gulps, thinking of his real name. Why did that sound so wrong coming out of her mouth?

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot? I don’t know her.

He pockets her underwear; Rey realizes this as she’s pulling on her socks and he’s knotting his tie. She rakes her eyes over him appreciatively before holding out a hand for the one item of clothing she’s missing.

He smooths his collar and runs a hand through his hair, his eyes registering her expectant palm.

“Something wrong?”

He leans over her. She’s sitting in his office chair, swinging her feet, and he leans in to place his hands on the armrests, bracketing her in. Rey leans back against the cushion, her lower half registering how undeniably large he seems like this. She swallows, enjoying how his eyes follow the movement.

“You still have my underwear.”

“Hm,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side. “Yes.”

“I need them back,” she says, feeling warmer.

“You wore them for me,” He says, leaning in even closer. “They’re _mine_.”

Rey leans forward, mesmerized by his mouth. He lifts a hand and presses a thumb just on her collarbone, pressing down slightly,letting his lips barely brush hers. “You’ll go without. For each appointment, I’m afraid.”

Rey has to blink because suddenly she urgently needs to be fucked, maybe even with the dress still on. Bent over his desk? There weren’t many things on it—no pictures, just papers and a fancy pen set.

“Actually,” Rey says nervously. “This has been really great but—“ she trails off, eyeing x-rays with her name labeled at the top.

He jerks back like she’s slapped him, looking very pale. “I understand if you don’t want to come back—“ he says in a rush, taking a step back until he bumps into the desk.

“What? No!”

“No?” He looks like a kicked puppy.

“No, I mean that I still need to have my neck fixed!”

His eyes go wide. “Oh.”

Rey raises an eyebrow. “You...did you forget you’re my chiropractor?”

She can’t stifle her laugh at the look on his face.

* * *

 

“You really don’t have to—“ Rey is cut off by his large hands winding her scarf around her neck.

He quirks a smile at her. “It’s a blizzard out there.”

“All the more reason not to drive me halfway across the city—“ she protests, tugging the scarf down below her chin. “I can get home just fine.”

“My car is out back,” he says, placing a palm on the small of her waist. The gentle pressure as he leads her to the rear of the office makes her shiver.

It’s a nice car; Rey knees go weak at the luxury when he opens the passenger door and ushers her into a buttery leather seat. The dash is a sleek array of buttons beneath a touch screen. This was certainly a change from her yellow crusty bus seat that required industrial sanitation.

So her fantasy about that king sized bed might be true after all.

He smirks at her when he flicks on her seat warmer, Rey making a pleased noise and squirming back into the heat. It felt delicious on her recently aligned spine, still tingling with release.

He drives with ease through the snow, which is coming down in a bonafide barrage. Thick, fluffy sheets of it coat the windshield between strokes of the wipers. Rey lets her eyes trail over this thick hands curled lazily over the wheel. Her mind wanders to her current lack of underwear, to the drying slickness of his come on her thigh.

“Just take the bridge, and then follow straight until I-“ Rey’s voice trails off as she frowns at the slowing traffic ahead of them.

Kylo leans forward slightly, squinting. “Uhm.”

“What?” Rey leans over to his side, trying to see in front of the truck blocking her view.

“Bridge is closed,” he answers slowly before turning to peer at her nervously. “Where’s the next one?”

Rey blinks, mind racing. The next closest path across the river was the footbridge in the park that was likely covered in a foot of snow by now. Why was she stupid enough to wear a dress, today of all days? So that left—

“Homestead,” she whispers. That bridge was nearly eight miles from where they were now. It could take hours, judging my the slow inching of cars funneled there now.

“I could...” He loosens his tie, face scrunched up. “You could sleep at my place. It’s only a few blocks. When the roads are cleared in the morning I could drive you back to campus.”

Rey’s heart skips. Spend the night? With him? The idea was enticing. She could get to see him fully naked. Rey licks her lips and thinks of the biceps he’s got hidden beneath his button down. “Are you sure that’s....alright?”

“If it means I get to ply you with Chinese food into my bed, sure.” His hand drifts from the shift to her thigh, gently squeezing.

Rey thinks for a moment before pulling out her phone—she’s already got a message from Finn telling her that traffic in their neighborhood is bad, buses full with the five ‘o clock crowd trying to avoid the snow.

“If you’re sure,” she says, squinting at him.

He smiles. “I asked, so yeah, I’m sure.”

* * *

 

He lives on the nice side of the neighborhood he practices in, explaining that he usually walks the few blocks over in the summer but preferred the car when the weather was poor. He had a parking garage on the ground level of his apartment building, shared with a few other tenants that lived in the remodeled warehouse.

It means that the ceilings are so tall she has to tilt her head back to look at the top, when he opens the front door. It’s like something out of a bachelor’s dream; clean, minimal lines of furniture and a chrome kitchen to match. His living room windows faced the river, the glittering lights of downtown disappearing in and out of view between the storm.

“Must be a bitch to heat—“ Rey says before she can stop herself, thinking of the entire afternoon she and Finn spent once applying insulation to their piss poor creaky windows. “I mean, this is really nice.” She amends quickly, turning to face him with a nervous smile.

“I’ll order something,” he huffs mostly to himself, apparently unimpressed with what he finds in the fridge. He pulls open a drawer, fishing for a takeout menu. “Any requests, sweetheart?”

The casual intimacy of the nickname makes her whole face flush as she tugs off her coat. He says it like they’ve been dating for years, as if what’s happened between them is totally normal.

“Pad thai,” she mumbles, ducking her head to look at her scuffed, waterlogged boots on his pristine wood floor.

She tugs them off as he dials and wanders over in socked feet to the window, pressing a palm against the cool glass. It puffs with fog from her breath, skewing her view of the city settling down for the long night of winter ahead.

She almost doesn’t hear him walk up behind her; he’d taken off his loafers, padding after her. She hums as his hands come up to squeeze her shoulders before winding around her waist and tucking her beneath his chin. Rey blinks warily—she fits perfectly against his chest, as if she was made for him.

“I don’t know anybody who lives like this,” she says weakly. She thinks of the student slum housing covered in a slew of garbage and broken glass. She loves her little apartment with Finn but the constant stress of mold and peeling paint and leaky sinks and the mice who lived in the walls wasn’t endeared to her heart.

He ducks his head and presses his lips to her cheek, trailing down to her neck. Rey sighs and leans back against him.

“I can always keep you here in bed,” he murmurs, lazy and teasing. He noses against her cheek, before pulling away, concern marring his features. “You’re freezing, come on.”

“I like the view,” she says, embarrassed.

“It’ll be there in the morning,” he replies, pushing her to sit on the couch. “I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

Rey pulls off her socks and combs her fingers through her hair where it’s tangled from the wind, pinning it back up in her customary half bun when he returns with a spare sweatshirt and flannel pants.

* * *

 

Kylo determines that it is essential he ignore that twinge in his chest as he furtively watches her pad around barefoot and tiny in his clothes. Everything the girl does is horribly, disgustingly adorable—even how she’s currently chewing a too large mouthful of noodles, sauce all over her chin.

He’d been unable to stop himself from herding her into a corner of the couch and nesting her in a pile of blankets, pulling her into his lap and slowly kissing her senseless. At first he thought it was too forward; all of it—the invitation back to his apartment, the obvious insinuation that they would have sex again. Yet Rey lapped up the attention, sighing and panting against his mouth, expression soft and fluttering.

And _god_ , how badly he already wanted her, cock twitching in his trousers at the memory of taking her back at the office. How she’d mewled beneath him, ridiculously tight as he’d fucked her.

Some primal part of him had insisted he feed her first and evidently this was an intelligent choice; apparently the way to Rey’s heart was a steaming bowl of pad thai and egg rolls. She ate with gusto, cross-legged and perched beside him on the couch.

“So,” she began once she’d taken a breath to do something besides eat. “Are you from here?”

He shakes his head. “I bounced all over as a kid. I settled here on a whim. A large part of my practice is involved with several long term research studies; I took over the work from an old professor of mine when he asked me to a few years ago.”

“Oh,” she says, her eyes flicking across his face and skimming to some unseen middle ground. “I’ve never gone outside the city. I’ve always been here.”

“Why?”

She shrugs, looking anywhere but him. “I’ve never had a reason to leave, I guess. And too many reasons to stay.” Her brow furrows.

Something seems sticky, wary about her voice, as if she’s treading on unsteady ground. Kylo can take a hint—it’s hardly as if he wants to talk about his past either. Not really first date material, even if they’ve already slept together.

He cleans up both their plates despite her protests, pushing her back down onto the couch with a warning look. When he returns, Rey is already looking at him with half-lidded eyes, her gaze heated and raking over him.

“About your bed—“ she grins at him, reaching out with both arms to beckon him forward. Kylo kneels on the couch, crowding over her.

“Greedy little thing,” he murmurs, tracing two fingers across her pink mouth. Rey nips at him and makes a needy sound.

He slides his hands beneath the hem of her shirt as he kisses her, crowding her beneath him. He palms her lovely little tits, the soft skin warm, her nipples pebbling up as she pressed herself against him, searching for more friction.

He yanks off her shirt, tangling her arms above he head and pauses, tracing over her lithe form. “You’re so perfect,” he hisses, sliding a hand over the curve of her waist.

Rey is nodding up at him and doesn’t seem to realize she’s doing so; she’s focused intently on his hand looking so large where it’s tucked at her side.

He reaches up to catch a nipple between his fingers and squeeze; her eyes flutter and Rey’s sinful little mouth opens in surprise at the force of it.

“I want you—“ she whines, jerking her hips beneath him, grinding the warmth at the apex of her thighs against his trousers.

“Already desperate, sweet thing?” He rasps down at her, pinning her wrists where she’s about to work them free.

“Please,” she says, high-pitched and filthy. “More—“

He kisses her to shut her up because he’s terrified that hearing any more pleas will make him get to the edge embarrassingly fast.

He settles for scooping her up in his arms and dumping her on the mattress in the bedroom; she makes a pretty picture, her hair disheveled and her face flushed red.

“Take off the pajamas. Slow, Rey.”

She huffs and falls back against the pillows, eyes flirting over his face to see his reaction when she arches her back to lift her bottom and tug off the flannel fabric. Her red underwear is burning a hole in his coat pocket, so she’s deliciously bare. She curls in on herself slightly once she’s naked, eyes fever bright as she looks up at him.

He swallows. Her long, tanned legs are pressed together, likely to try and squeeze around her clit for relief.

“Spread your legs for me,” He says, voice low. His hands curl into fists as she does so, slowly digging her heels into the duvet and revealing her cunt, still red and puffy from the good fucking she received earlier.

She’s wet already, thighs twitching with need; her hands drape over her stomach, tracing soft circles on her abdomen just above her clit.

Kylo moves forward, hovering over her on the bed. He presses a kiss to her bent knee and Rey shivers. “Slide your hand down,” he orders, voice hoarse. “Check how wet you are, baby. Don’t touch your clit.”

Rey whines, brow creasing with frustration before letting her slender wrist drift lower; she traces her index finger just at her slit, dipping in slightly to touch her entrance. Her fingertip comes back slick.

“Touch your clit nice and slow, Rey. Slower than you want to.”

Rey is staring at him with a wide-eyed expression, looking incredibly sweet and desperate. She brushes the top of her bud with a gasp, already high and tight with anticipation. Her legs fall open slightly as she traces a soft circle, her hips rocking.

It doesn’t take long until she forgets about his order and starts grinding her finger down faster, her head flopping back against the pillows; her pretty cunt is leaking, soft drops of her arousal sliding down to the duvet. Kylo is firmly settled between her thighs, palming his cock and watching, slack-jawed as she works herself nice and wet for him. And oh, how she does, this wanton little creature; Rey’s breath starts hitching, soft mewls behind clenched teeth as she starts to shudder with pleasure.

His hand shoots out and grabs her wrist to stop her; Rey gasps and tries to jerk away, her face scrunched up as her hips jerk against the air. “No,” she pleads, face teary. “No, please let me come—“

“Not yet,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of her knee. “Ride it out, baby. Calm down.”

Rey struggles beneath him for a few moments before huffing in air and finally settling, blinking up at him. “I don’t-“

“How long were you wet for?”

She takes in a shaky breath and pauses, regarding him.

“Answer me, little girl.” He traces a fingertip slowly just over her clit.

Her resolve twists at the caress, too soft to bring her over, only enough to blindly frustrate her. “All day. Since I put on the underwear, I soaked them. I....I was sitting in class, thinking about you fucking me,” she admits, face pink. “A lot. Hard.”

“And in the car here,” she whispers, continuing when he coaxes her with another lazy drag of his finger over slick pink skin. “After you took my underwear and told me to go without.”

Kylo pushes her legs apart again; she’d been steadily attempting to close them as she’d neared completion earlier, limbs winding up with tension. He spreads her open with his thumbs now; her cunt twitches, begging for his cock.

“Poor girl,” he says softly. “Needing to be fucked all the time, Rey.”

She nods eagerly, eyes drifting to the bulge of his cock in his trousers.

“Ask nicely,” He rasps, brushing a thumb against her clit; Rey keens and suddenly she’s in his lap, wrapping her arms around him and grinding a wet spot into his crotch. He grunts at the welcome friction, the lapful of beautiful girl.

“Please?” She whimpers in his ear. “I want you to come inside me again, or in my mouth so I can swallow it—“

He shoves her back down against the bed with a growl and flips her on her stomach; he presses his thumbs hard into the dimples of her back until she moans.

It’s a struggle to pull off his pants with even a semblance of grace; his shirt goes too, eager to press against Rey’s warm body. “Come on, little one,” he says, tugging at her hip. “Spread them wider.”

She does, wriggling her ass back against him; he presses one hand down flat so she’s flush with the mattress and making those little whining noises again. He nudges his cock in her and hisses at the first inch; she’s wet but tight; the squeeze of her little body trying to take him near painful.

“Relax,” he murmurs, hunching over her. “Come on, Rey.”

The girl beneath him sobs and trembles, nodding into the covers.

He slides his hips forward and hears her choke on it. “Gonna fill you up, nice and deep, pretty thing, just relax,” he says, petting her spine.

There’s a sheen of sweat on her lower back; Rey finally settles down with soft breaths as he works himself deeper, pushing himself into the tight heat and relishing the feeling. “ _Fuck_ -“ she squeaks wetly, eyes glazed over.

“I’m gonna make you come, nice and slow Rey, I’m gonna fuck your little cunt how I like. And you’re gonna be sweet for me and—“ he grunts, sliding in to the hilt, feeling his balls tighten up at her moan— “you’ll warm my bed and take my cock all night, however I want, Rey.”

Rey _cries_ —the sound of it is so sudden and aching that Kylo is having trouble breathing. Something in him snaps, white hot and dark; he pushes her hips down and starts thrusting hard. The heat and the slide of her beneath him feels like glory—he’s close, too close and Rey is twitching, sobbing for more.

He growls and fists a handful of her hair, jerking her up flush with his chest, sliding a hand down her torso to flick over her clit. The arch of her back makes her impossibly tight, dragging the head of his cock over her sweet spot.

Rey is soaked and if the soft little jerks of her hips are anything to go by, she’s on the very edge and probably has been since he had cruelly yanked her hands away earlier. His hand is slick and impresice without being able to see at this angle; she hisses when he finally manages to pull up the hood over her clit and grinds the pad of his thumb over her sensitive little nub.

He nuzzles into her neck, appreciating the way she bends and whines for him. “Do you want to come?”

“Uh,” Rey blinks, shaking and trying to think. “Uh-huh, pleeease— _ah_ ,” she hisses out, reaching back to palm his thigh.

He drags his teeth at the slender column of her neck. “You did so _good_ , sweetheart.” He punctuates this by rubbing at her clit faster, egging her on. Rey’s little thighs are starting to tremble the way they did the first time he made her come with his mouth.

“Kylo-“ she begs, soft and sweet, just before seizing up and going rigid in his arms with a moan. She shudders and squeezes around his cock for a few moments as he fucks her through it, until finally going limp and incoherent, a wet whimpering mess.

He grunts and pushes her down to the mattress, enjoying the messy slide of his cock in her now heavily slick pussy. “Fuck, Rey. Perfect—“ he grinds himself against her, able to go as deep as he wants now that he’s got her worked over.

Rey is weakly mewling into the mattress with each thrust, unable to do anything but lie beneath him. She looks too tiny like this, his hands dwarfing her hips. “Gonna come in your little pussy, sweet girl. You did so good, baby—“

Her little _please_ is drowned out by his sharp groan as he finishes, holding her tight enough to bruise. He pants, collapsing only just to the side of her before throwing a weak arm over her waist and curling himself around her as his cock softens.

Rey is sensitive; she rolls her hips slightly and winces when she wiggles back against him. He feels only slightly guilty, too busy being smug and hoping she would walk funny tomorrow, remembering every inch of his cock. She giggles when his five ‘o clock shadow scratches at her shoulders and cheeks as he plants apologetic kisses over all of her he can reach.

“I can’t believe you really exist,” he mutters, kissing her ear.

“I can’t believe you really have a king sized bed,” Rey hums, looking very pleased.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I’m an idiot who volunteered for a project at work without realizing I would have to do actual....work lmao also adult life sucks and someone hit my car and totaled it, and then I spent a lot of this month traveling for family stuff. All I can say is thanks for waiting patiently. :) real life dragged me like a little bitch this month so idk if this chapter is up to par but I hope y’all ENJOY CAUSE ITS STRAIGHT UP PORN LIKE I DIDNT EVEN TRY A SINGLE BIT
> 
> #whatelseisnew

Rey snores in her sleep. It’s _disgusting_. It makes his chest feel tight and his whole face scrunch up, his heart pound as he looks at her little freckled face slack with sleep. Kylo fights the urge to jostle her awake, shake her and demand why she makes him feel like he’s run a marathon.

She’s tiny, yet still somehow taking up more than half the bed, skinny limbs thrown over his own. He’d worn her out, pulling her tight and making her tense and shake with need. She’d fallen asleep practically boneless almost an hour ago, giving him a sweet smile through hazy eyes before curling up and konking out.

He tucks the blankets in around her shoulders, taking a moment to brush his thumb against the soft, tanned skin there. It’s January. How on earth was she tan? Why was her ass so perfectly cute? Why were her lips so pink? Why did she make him feel so _raw_?

He exhales loudly and tries to think calm thoughts. He was definitely not head over heels in a deep, laborious crush for some twenty-two year old he’d met a week ago. Kylo Ren did not swoon over a girl. He did _not_ want to come home to find her curled up on his couch. He did not want to make her dinner, or give her flowers or surprise her with coffee. He didn’t want to hold her tiny, delicate hand in his own, and surely he didn’t want to kiss her forehead or her proportional nose.

He groans and rolls over to scowl at the wall, because during that intense internal monologue where he was definitely _not_ imagining their life together, his traitorous hand had started brushing her hair out of her eyes and stroking her cheek while she slept like an _angel_.

Rey mumbles in her sleep and rolls closer to him, snuggling into his back with a little sigh.

 _Oh good god_. He whimpers, feeling the heat of her skin where they’re pressed together. _I’m in deep_.

* * *

 

He wakes up in something that feels vaguely like heaven; it takes him a moment to remember the body currently crawling over him to straddle his lap is _Rey_. He clears his throat of sleep and his hands immediately travel to her hips, blinking warily up at her.

It’s dark outside, still early morning. Rey, needy thing, is letting out sleepy little sounds of frustration, gently rocking her very naked cunt against his lap.

“Can we fuck again before you drive me back?” She asks softly, dragging her nails ever so gently across his chest. The sensation is sharp for this early in the morning; he feels his cock twitch.

Still, he frowns up at her. “Aren’t you sore?” He asks, thinking about how she had started whimpering when he slid his cock inside her for the forth time last night. He’s never had sex so many times in a twenty-four hour period, though he doesn’t regret it. The problem was, each time they would finish, Rey would stretch out her limbs and look so thoroughly satisfied that he would immediately feel compelled to touch her again. His hands would eventually find her wet cunt, fascinated with how pretty it looked covered in his come, and he’d ply more little noises from her until she was squirming, and then, _well_. His thighs already feel tight from overexertion.

Still, his pretty girl was irresistible and currently very naked on top of him. Kylo appreciatively Slides a hand up to the small curve of her waist, the ever so slight ridge of her ribs before cupping one of her perfect tits.

“ _Mmhmff_ ,” Rey closes her eyes, arching her back and pushing her chest into his hand. “Yes,” she admits to the soreness. “But I still want you.”

She’s lovely and groggy with sleep, grinding down harder just over the length of his cock. They’re only separated by the thin material of his boxers and the heat is precious. Kylo flexes his legs and pushes up slightly, grinding against her clit and Rey whines at the added pressure.

“Alright,” He soothes, squeezing her breast. Rey blinks down at him and wiggles slightly, sliding further down the bed until she’s settled on his thighs.

He frowns—he wants to touch her, slide a few fingers inside her heat, but apparently Rey has other ideas if she’s so far out of his reach.

She bends over, swiping her pink tongue over her bottom lip just as her hands come up to gently tug at the hem of his underwear; her fingers feel hot where they brush over his abdomen. He watches, mouth dry as she presses a slow, wet kiss to his hip, and then lower, just above the elastic.

She ducks down with a shy glance, mouthing at the tip of his cock through the fabric covering it, the weight of it heavy and hot. She gently squeezes with one small palm, putting warm pressure on him.

“Fuck, Rey,” he grits out, sliding a hand into her hair. She smiles, flicking her eyes up to his with an expression that would be innocent and sweet if she wasn’t about to suck his cock.

Rey hums happily when she manages to tug down the hem to expose just the head, already pearling precome at the tip. She purses her lips and kisses it, the sensation burning hot in comparison to the cool of the air.

He makes a sound that is suspiciously similar to a squeak when her tongue pokes out from those pretty lips to lick just once over the slit. He lifts his hips to help her in the process of tugging down his underwear, groaning when Rey proceeds to swallow what she’s revealed like something out of his many fantasies involving the girl.

When he looks down it’s too much; her face pink, one of her hands wrapped around the base of his cock gently pumping him into her mouth. Everything is slick with her spit, and the slide of it is far past pleasurable; his hips keep jerking without permission. Rey makes a tiny whimper when she gags, the tip of his cock hitting the soft back of her throat, and he has to close his eyes and tilt his head back to the ceiling to cope with it.

“Rey— sweetheart,” he hisses, fumbling to remember how sentences are supposed to work. “You gotta stop if you want me to fuck your pussy.”

She pulls off of him with a pant, sucking in air, though her wet hand keeps lazily tugging at him. She eyes him and ducks back down to just lick at the head like it’s a fucking treat, her chin a slick mess of precome and her own spit. He’s going to die ten years early from the stress of not coming right then and there.

Her free hand is busy between her thighs, the slick sound of her own digits sliding in and out of her. He groans, hard cock bobbing at his abdomen when he sits up to grab her by the forearms and pull her up the bed. She whines and bucks her hips slightly when he sucks one of her wet fingers into his mouth and cleans it. He smiles and moves to sit up and crawl over her, bracketing her body in.

“What do you need, baby?” He croons as he works his way below, where he’s sliding his palm up the backs of her thighs—and Jesus, he can nearly span the entire width of them with one hand, she’s so tiny— Kylo spreads her legs wide, as far as they’ll go. Rey gasps, arching up her back and blinking wetly at the ceiling.

“Please,” she whines, drawing her hands up to rub lazy circles around her pink nipples. “Please make me come, Kylo—“

He noses at her slit, using his thumbs to spread her open so he can see the tight little cunt he now owns. “So wet, baby.”

“Uh huh,” she whimpers, dazed. She sounds drunk on her own arousal. Kylo can smell her now; even in the dim light of predawn, she’s glistening. He’s never wanted to make a girl really scream for it before now, but apparently Rey is making him a changed man.

He huffs out a small laugh from where he’s hovering over her, and the poor girl is so swollen and sensitive now that she must feel it because her eyes roll back and her whole cunt clenches, hard. He’s mesmerized by the slick leaking out from her, watching her dampen the already ruined sheets.

“Fuck,” she says, hoarse. “Please, please touch me—please, I’ll do anything—“

“Oh, I know that.” He swipes the flat of his tongue slowly across the swollen flesh laid out before him. “But you’ll take what I give you, sweetheart.”

Rey cries, needy and urgent, but Kylo knows she can take more; he strokes his tongue against her clit achingly slow, watching her squirm. He’s not racing to make her come, instead seeking to draw it out of her nice and slow.

“How many fingers did you have buried in my little cunt earlier while you were sucking me off, hm?”

“I-“ she sighs at a particularly slow lick, shivering and scrunching up slightly. “Three,” she gasps, “fuck, Kylo.”

Something growls in him when he’s able to grab her by the waist and flip her up onto her knees; Kylo sits up himself and then twists a fist in her hair and forces her down over his lap, pressing her cheek to his thigh. Rey’s breath is coming in quick, nervous pants, apparently already wary of where this is going.

“Just three,” He soothes down at her, spanning a hand over her little ass. She nods and swallows anxiously, and the movement of her delicate throat is so enticing that the hand in her hair hand slides down to encircle the warm skin there.

Rey melts—it’s breathtaking, the way her whole body just shivers and goes compliant. She’s arching her back as much as she can, her eyes hazy and blissed out. Her mouth is open, and she nervously licks her lips as her breath keeps hitching. He experimentally squeezes gently on the side of her throat with solid pressure and Rey moans in response. He feels her pulse flutter erratically where he’s pressing down.

He relaxes his hand and Rey whines, a wet mess. Precious girl. Her hands curl into the sheets beneath him.

He slaps her ass hard.

“Count,” He drawls darkly, dragging fingernails against the already pinkening skin. She jerks against his lap, wiggling her hips to dispel some of the unpleasantness of the pain.

“One,” she gasps, straining in all directions as if it’s too much.

“What do you say, baby?”

His hand moves to the other cheek and when she doesn’t immediately respond, too busy whimpering, his hand is lighting fast against the skin there.

“ _Two_!” She yelps, trembling. “Thank—“ she tries the words experimentally, unsure of what he wants to hear. He watches her mind flicker through other possibilities before settling. “Thank you,” she answers finally with a bit more breathless enthusiasm.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “One more.” He can’t last through much more of this; his cock is painfully hard and she keeps brushing it with all her squirming.

“ _Threethankyou_ -“‘she hisses when the last one comes, nearly crawling out of her skin. Her expression is difficult to pin down, emotions tumbling across her features at the combination of sex and pain. He stills her with the hand spanned at her neck, and Rey lets out a little desperate sound, twitching until he squeezes harder. 

“I think you liked that, little one, huh?” He says, voice feeling weighted as he eyes her cunt—he can just see the slick edges of it, the desperate way she had moved her hips at each slap.

Rey nods emphatically, her little hands curling and uncurling into fists. “Does getting spanked make your tight little pussy wet?” He prods, sliding a hand down her spine. Rey lets out a keening sound, unsure of how to answer.

His other hand trails across her backside and then lower, nudging her clit—Rey moans loudly in response and tries to work her hips back. He’s not surprised because she’s absolutely soaking wet.

“You desperate for a fucking, sweetheart?” He coaxes, working the pad of his thumb in quick circles against her clit and teasing her cunt, sliding in just an index finger to the first knuckle.

“Uh huh,” Rey nods, her voice too high. He can feel her cunt clenching hard around too little.

“Gonna fill you up, stretch you good, do you need that?”

“Yes,” Rey sobs into his thigh. “Please, Kylo.”

He takes pity on her and pushes another finger inside, and then another too because she’s godamned slick enough to take it. Rey moans lewdley as he fucks three fingers inside her lovely slit, searching for that particular sweet spot that made her keen—

 _Oh_ , that was it; Rey’s whole body jerks and she looks like she hardly even knows what to do with the feeling.

“Oh, good god, Rey,” he groans at the sight. It’s too much wet, pink skin for him not too. “You always take it so good, huh? Just made for this, baby. You’re fucking insatiable.”

“For you-“ she chants out, sobbing as his fingers work inside of her.

She’s on the brink of getting close to an orgasm, so he slows his movements and cruelly slides his fingers out. He thinks Rey is going to cry for a moment because her face twists up, heated and unsatisfied. “You’re ok,” he coaxes as he moves her to the middle of the bed, pressing her to lie face down into the mattress. “You’re gonna come on my cock,” he murmurs, crawling over her and lining up with her entrance. “When I let you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods in a watery whimper, absolutely too sweet. She stiffens when he pushes inside, likely on the edge of too sore from last night.

“You take it so good, baby,” he pants into her shoulder, moving forward in one long, slow thrust, squeezing his eyes shut when he’s all the way inside. She hiccups when he moves to slide out, her hips following the movement; her little pink ass in the air. Kylo nearly chokes on his own spit.

It’s good but it not enough; he rides it out for a little, slowly fucking into her and watching her get stuffed full over and over again with increasingly desperate moans. He likes watching her spanked ass, but something is crawling in his chest, desperate to watch her face.

He gives in and flips her over, pushing his cock back in with little pretense; Rey arches her back and cries out at the different angle. “Fuck, Rey,” he hisses. “So godamned tight for me?” She nods eagerly, biting her lip and eyes squeezing shut.

He lets one hand drift between her spread legs to her clit to start drawing out her orgasm— the other goes to her pretty slender neck. Rey’s eyes go wide when she realizes, but he watches her swallow and then settle beneath him as he squeezes, her breath coming in increasingly hoarse little gasps. “Come on, baby,” he hisses. “You can come, sweetheart.”

He’s got her right there—her hands scramble up to trap his wrist and keep his hand at her neck, she writhes on his cock as she finishes, looking magnificent. Her lovely legs go tight with tension and her back bows; he yanks his hand away and she takes in a deep gasp of air, trembling beneath him as she comes back down with a rush of oxygen. “Fuck,” she whimpers out, sounding far away. “Kylo-“

Her eyes brim with overworked tears when he keeps going—it’s probably too much, but she hardly asks him to stop, instead basking in it. He keeps hitting her deep, her body swallowing him up, and it’s not long until he feels that familiar tension in his belly—he growls and slides in as much as he can, grinding into her little pussy when he feels the first spurt of come.

Rey has a dreamy look on her face as he ruts into her, filling her up. She loves it, naughty girl.

* * *

 

Rey had really tried to enter her apartment as quietly as possible that morning: she had turned the key painfully slowly and winced at every scrape of metal, taken off her boots the moment she was inside, and tip-toed to her bedroom door, careful to avoid the particularly squeaky floorboards. If she was lucky, they’d still be asleep—

“So.” Says Finn casually, leaning on the threshold of the kitchen door with a cup of coffee. “Who is it?”

“Yeah-“ pipes up Poe from behind him. “We’ve got a right to know who you’re doing the do with. It’s just the rules.”

Rey doesn’t resist the urge to bang her forehead against her bedroom door. “Can’t I get like a week-long extension?” She moans, muffled into the wood.

“Uh, no. Duh.”

Rey groans and very dramatically opens the door to her room, content to slam it shut while the other two laughed. She couldn’t face them now—they’d ask about her raw knees, the bruises in her neck, the flush on her face and she would feel so deliciously dirty.

Rey sighs and shivers when she feels an odd pulse of Kylo’s come slide out of her and into her already wet underwear. She was fucking ruined by that evil, wonderful man. How was she going to explain any of it?

She sighs and moves to her desk to open up her laptop, cracking her knuckles and googling makeup tutorials to cover hickies.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr @toutlevin (it’s mostly aesthetic, Star Wars shit and vague text posts about my hoe life)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God @ me: please make good wholesome choices I am begging you
> 
> Me, making fingerguns and walking backwards with sunglasses on: hell nope

Rey has decided to play the aloof and ever-mysterious role of the untouchable girl. That means even though Kylo’s phone number—despite being perfectly accessible in her phone—burns a hole in her pocket for the two days she has between appointments.

He had dropped her off early the morning after she had spent the night at his place. They had passed out for a good while after fucking sometime just as the sun rose, but the rest of her time there until he had finally herded her out the door was the subject of nearly all of Rey’s daydreams the following afternoon

And yet, it  _hadn’t_ involved having sex. It was simpler; him murmuring for her to sleep while he took a shower and then shaved with a towel around his hips, half hidden by the door to the bathroom. After, he’d sat on the bed near where she was curled up beneath the blankets, movements soft as he blindly fixed his tie, yawning and running a massive hand through his thick hair. He had smelled so good—fresh cologne and body wash, something smoky and deep.

The entire process had made something fizzle in her stomach, too domestic and dizzyingly, well, _sexy_. Rey had just shivered when he leaned over her, planting his arms on either side of her, nearly dwarfing her body. He was warm, and Rey shifted to try and wiggle closer to him, greedy for it.

He huffed a small laugh, lips brushing the top of her forehead where it had been peeked out from her well-made cocoon of blankets. “Time to get up, baby,” he had coaxed, and Rey had nearly cried from the onslaught of arousal, entirely unprepared for his deep voice that early in the morning.

But they were running late, so he had pulled her out of bed and gone to make coffee while Rey swished mouthwash and splashed water on her face to wake up,  eyeing with no small amount of disgust the daring hickies that lined her throat.

Her heart had hammered in her chest when he pulled up to her apartment, her traitor brain conjuring fantasies of him asking her on a real date. It wasn’t true—Rey was perfectly capable of understanding that they both simply wanted to fuck. Both of them. Sure. After all, real relationships were reserved for people who deserved them, and Rey was not one of those people.

He finally put the car in park, the engine humming outside her building. He shuffled nervously, handing her the to-go mug of coffee he’d brewed, blinking up at her and licking his lips while she gathered her things. Rey had sighed and opened her mouth to say something scathing to ruin it the way she usually does—

“Could I have your number?”

Rey looks up in genuine surprise, startled by his question. He squirms, eyes darting from her face and away again, and Rey abruptly realizes he’s scared she’ll refuse.

“Oh,” she says, all the nervous wind out of her sails. “Sure.”

She scrambles to fish out her ancient iPhone, hoping he doesn’t raise an eyebrow at the cracked screen. (She was capable of fixing it, thank you very much. She just couldn’t afford to actually buy the tools to do it.) Rey’s mind goes somewhere dirty when his hands engulf the device, a frown marring his face as he tries to type with the same blunt fingers that had made her come, squinting and mumbling something about wishing he had his glasses.

 _That_ had been the final straw for Rey. The universe could only taunt her so much—surely she was not expected to deal with this man, dripping sex wherever he went, to also wear glasses. Rey was just one girl. The moment he hands her phone back, she sincerely thinks of nothing but grabbing his tie and yanking him forward to lick into his pretty mouth.

Instead, Rey had panicked and scrambled out of the car with a simple yelp of “thanks for the ride!”. It was too tempting to ask _hey, what are we? Do you like me?_ _Can we do that again? And again? And again?_

Those questions had been bouncing around her head the entire way up the stairs to her apartment, and then the following day too.

Now her phone taunts her where it’s sitting, screen stark black against the white of her notebook paper and textbooks. She had gotten _his_ number, meaning she was the one with control over the entire situation, his contact just sitting in there, unused still. A thrill of victory surges through her, at her own self control—it was so unlikely that he could ever care about her, and Rey refused to get her hopes up. She would just be disappointed if she texted him and he never responded. Might as well cut out the middle man and just be on her own, like she was meant to be.

Surely he had only asked for her number in case of an emergency bootycall. People didn’t like her enough to really know her—too much baggage, too much of a broken, strange girl. Save for her few close friends, people didn’t gravitate to her. She wouldn’t waste the energy on Dr. Ren.

But she could certainly fuck him.

* * *

 

Kylo had spent all day discretely pulling his phone out of his trouser pockets every five minutes, crushed each time to screen remained determinedly blank. (A false alarm had made his heart pound until he realized it was a text from his Mother explaining that she expected him at Shabbat dinner on Friday. Of course. He was the kind of guy who waited for a text from a girl and instead got one from his _mom_.)

He turned his phone off rather viciously and shoved it in a drawer, feeling embarrassment in his bones. Of _course_ Rey wasn’t going to text him—the strange expression that had flickered over her face when he had been stupid enough to ask should have told him so.

It was foolish to even think he had a chance with that girl. She was really, _really_ beautiful—the warm slant to her face, her hair just curling at her shoulders. The perfect, slender shape to her body. The trill of her laugh, the way she stuffed her face with food. Obviously smart, excessively pretty—and entirely out of his league. They both knew it.

So why had she practically been begging for it from him then? He sighed and shook his head, pouting in his office.

Still, he would take what he could get. He’d never been so magnetically attracted to someone like this. He’d wanted sex before, sure, but now he wanted something that was purely Rey. Wanted to shove her up against a wall and make her come so good that she’d be ruined. Wanted her to feel the same intensity that lurked inside his veins, hear her whine for it and cry while he fucked her.

His daydreams consisted of imaginary, filthy texts that Rey would see in class, ones that would make her squirm and press her thighs together, blushing up her pretty throat. He’d make her see how good he could be, how much she would want him in return.

* * *

 

She’s thinking about texting him the night before her appointment. She had spent half the day with wet underwear, unable to control her thoughts. Now her phone is in her hands, blindly scrolling through some app to distract herself when Finn throws a pizza box down on the coffee table.

“You’re scrolling too fast to even be reading that, I don’t care how short tweets are.”

“Uh,” says Rey, blinking up at him. Her daydream about Kylo’s hand slipping up her skirt, tugging her underwear to the side and telling her to be good—evaporates like smoke. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About who?” There’s a smile flicking up his face.

“Nobody!” Rey squeaks too quickly.

He guffaws at her expression, opening the pizza box and letting the greasy smell waft over both of them.

They chat about their next calc exam, about the rumors regarding Paige’s acceptance to the Air Force, and the purported retirement of the dean. They’re both set the graduate next year, and they start to pro-con attending the actual ceremony. Rey protests, insisting that it’s boring, while privately thinking that it’s embarrassing to show up for no reason—ceremonies were really for family, and Rey wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle standing alone in a sea of people, surrounded by warmth.

So her judgement gets the better of her while she’s lying in bed later that night. Something claws in her chest—maybe the placebo of Kylo’s obvious desire would sait her need for now. Oh _god_ , it was so weak, but she wanted it.

She lifts her hips to tug off her sweats and expose herself to the empty room. It’s cold, out from under the blankets, and Rey shivers, tucking her frozen fingers against her sides for a moment. When she finally slides them down her torso and between her thighs, they’re warm enough to be pleasurable.

She sucks in a breath at the first slide of her fingers against her clit; she’s wet, just like she has been all day. It feels amazing to finally be able to touch herself—she pulls her thighs wider and feels her stomach clench. Her breathing gets more labored, and eventually she grits her teeth and whimpers into her pillow to muffle the sound.

She scrambles for her phone—the positioning is awkward, and decidedly unsexy, but eventually she gets a salvageable photo of her bare cunt, glistening pink, her fingers spread apart in front of it; they’re covered in slick, sticky with her own desperation.

It would be pretty if it weren’t pornographic. She pants and sucks her fingers clean so she can type out the message. Rey hits send before she can lose the nerve, throwing her phone down on the covers. She viciously brings herself to climax, thinking only of his voice, his fingers, his thick cock splitting her open while he pets her back and tells her exactly what he’s going to do to her.

* * *

 

Kylo wakes up groggily the next morning to the sound of his alarm. He’d fallen asleep early, the television in his bedroom muted to C-Span. He nearly makes it out the door still half asleep when he finally checks his phone—

He blinks at the message for a solid sixty seconds before his body reacts. It’s from a string of numbers he doesn’t recognize, but the picture is of a pretty little cunt he most _certainly_ knows.

“Oh _god_ ,” he hisses, gripping the counter. He doesn’t have the strength for this. He’s just one man.

After a few breathing exercises, he gathers himself up and opens the message in its entirely, and when he processes the words written there, the air whistles out of his lungs.

_Please can I come?_

Why, dear god, didn’t he stay up? He’d been asleep by nine-thirty like the old man he is, and her message had been sent almost three hours later. And that poor thing had been writhing in bed, thinking of him, waiting for him to take care of her.

He shudders with delight, his cock already half hard. He trembles with it all the way to the office, sipping coffee at his desk and periodically opening the photo to admire what’s his when he’s sure nobody can see.

* * *

 

She’s half fuming, half embarrassed on her trek to the office. He’d never responded. He’d read her message, seen the picture, and never replied. She had given him the benefit of the doubt that night, figuring he was already asleep. Now it was nearly evening of the next day and still—nothing. Surely letting him put his dick inside her deserved a little acknowledgment.

The office is empty again when she buzzes in; she hears his heavy stomps before she sees him. He’s wearing his usual shirt and tie, but there’s a harried excitement to his expression.

She gulps when he opens the door and all thoughts of yelling at him vanish as she’s hit with the smell of him—his cologne has faded during the day, replaced by something else primarily heady and entirely his own.

He very nearly drags her inside, and she’s stunned when he manhandles her against the wall so they’re pressed together tightly. Rey shudders at the feeling, scrambling to gain purchase against his silky shirt.

“ _God_ ,” he hisses between urgent, deep kisses, scraping down her throat and collarbones, the heat of his mouth making her dizzy. “You’re going to fucking kill me.”

She squirms, trying to rock up against him. So that picture _did_ have the desired effect after all. “Sorry,” she manages to stutter. “I just wanted—“ she chokes on her words, brain turning to mush when he lifts her up but the waist, pinning her against the wall so her feet are dangling in the air. It’s the hottest thing that has ever happened to her ever, save for, well, everything else he’s done.

“Say it,” He says, head slotted beneath her chin so his hair tickles her cheek. He’s barely even kissing her now, just bruising her with his mouth.

She squirms in the air, relishing the feeling of being so little against him; he’s got one thigh propped between her own to bear some of her weight, and the seam of her jeans is pressed against her clit, grinding over it as they both shift.

One hand keeps her waist steady, the other one coming up to cup around her neck, and Rey melts; it’s warm and calloused against the delicate skin there, and it feels so overwhelming in just the right way.

“Come on, baby,” he slurs, drunk on it. “Tell me.”

“I wanted you,” she whines, blinking up at him. “I wanted to be—fucked.” She gasps, trying to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands.

“Desperate little thing, huh?” His mouth is so red and his eyes are dark. “Did you touch yourself? Did you pretend it was me when you put those little fingers in your pretty cunt?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods, straining forward against the hand at her neck, her trembling fingers fighting with his tie.

He scoops her up into his arms, shaking his head. Rey squeaks at suddenly being way too far from the ground and scrambles to wrap her arms around his neck. “Tell me the truth; did you come?” He walks not to the examination room, but to his office, kicking open the door wide and depositing her in the leather chair.

Rey smiles dreamily, remembering how she’d dragged it out slow and then forced it from herself, determined to come as hard as she could. She’d been on her knees on the bed, face pushed into the pillows when she’d moaned his name and climaxed. “Mhm,” she answers, already eager to dip her hands beneath the waistband of her jeans.

“Did I say you could?”

The temperature in the room kicks up a few degrees, and Rey flicks her eyes up to his own. Her mouth opens to retort, but nothing comes out—his expression is dark and pleased and liquid.

“Over the desk, kitten.”

“But—“ he’s already ushering her out of the chair, taking her place in it and scooting forward a few inches. She’s standing between him and the desk now, right between his thighs, pouting down at him.

“You can touch all you want,” He says with a jerk of his chin. “But I own that pretty cunt now, baby. You don’t get to come until I say so. Good girls know to _wait_. Take off your jeans.”

Rey feels like her body is going to explode, but she forces herself to peel off her skinny jeans to reveal the pink, lacy underwear she’d chosen that morning. She could feel a predictable wet spot at the very center, one he would see once she bent over to tug the jeans off her feet.

He hears his little intake of breath and smiles, standing back up to drop her jeans to the side. Kylo leans closer, letting his hand find her hip, slipping a finger into the elastic and letting it snap against her skin as he watches her face.

“Turn around,” he says, voice hoarse. “Bend over before I make you.”

Once her cheek is pressed against the wood, head turned to the side so she can peek at him, he stands out of the chair. He’s hovering so close that the fabric of his pants brushes the sensitive backs of her thighs like a whisper.

He rucks up her sweater to expose her back, letting his fingers trail along her spine with an appreciative hum, scratching his fingernails ever so slightly against the knots of bone.

Rey sighs and arches back, up on her toes so her ass is in the air. He seems content to just watch for a second before finally, finally reaching for her hips and tugging down her underwear to her knees.

“Hands behind your back,” he says and when Rey starts to protest—it’s an uncomfortable angle, for sure—he twists a hand in her hair and tilts her head back until she moans.

“You can’t be trusted with them, baby. I need to make sure you won’t touch that pretty clit.”

Rey sobs at that, taking a deep breath and forcing herself into the odd position, shoulders protesting. Her hands shakily rest on her lower back, gripped into nervous fists. She yelps when he tugs them higher, whimpering through it when—

He winds something silky smooth around her wrists, and Rey squirms with surprise, curiosity peaked. She turns slightly on her side to see his tie missing—presumably now binding her naughty hands behind her.

“Better?” He asks, eyes finding hers. There’s a genuine element to his voice and Rey realizes he wants her to say yes to whatever this is.

“Better.” She whispers, unable to stop staring at him. She tugs demonstratively, unable to separate the knot and he pulls away with a nod. Rey shivers at the odd feeling of helplessness—nevermind that this was already the subject of her fantasies, but it was different in reality, a strange emptiness in her abdomen, like being poised over a large drop. He really could do whatever he wanted to her—spank her till she cried, bounce her in his lap, make her kneel and suck him off. The endless possibilities loop on in her mind and she feels her cunt clench on nothing.

His hand settles over her bottom, rubbing absently before squeezing hard enough to make her mewl— his hand drifts between her thighs and just barely traces a line against the seam of her cunt, already sticky. She hears his hitched breathing, the crinkle of his shirt as he leans forward and murmurs to her in soft tones. He avoids her clit, instead choosing to circle the soft skin of her entrance. Rey makes an irritated noise and tries to wiggle back onto his finger, desperate for something, anything—

His hand rips back and slaps across her backside so hard Rey immediately yelps. It stings hot and angry, much harder than how he spanked her before. She flinches when he cups the backside and presses his palm, now cool in comparison, to the heated flesh.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, bumping his knee against the back of her own. “I need you to count, Rey.”

She squirms a bit, feeling strange, shaking her head resistantly, unsure of why she even _wants_ to resist. Maybe it’s just because he’ll make it that much harder, so she’ll feel more rewarded when it’s over. Either way he growls when she doesn’t comply and spanks her again, even harder.

Rey chokes on her cry, trying to scramble away—except he’s got a hand on her lower back, pressing her down so she can’t move. The third time is just as fast—she hears his hand swish through the air before it hits. Her whole body goes limp when she sobs, thighs trembling.

“You want me to fuck you right?” He says, blessedly deciding to pause while she pants for air. “You have to be a good girl for me, sweetheart. Come on.”

“Th—three,” she answers between little hiccups.

He sighs contentedly. “That’s it,” her murmurs, gently brushing her hair from her wet cheek. His hand dips between her thighs again, and this time Rey stays determinedly still beneath him as he traces lazy patterns against her cunt, occasionally dipping his fingers inside her just barely to the first knuckle. She moans when he does, but resists the temptation to fuck herself back on them.

“Good girl,” he noses against the back of her neck where he’s bent over her. He presses a sweet kiss against the crook of her jaw, trailing down her neck.

Rey whines when he stands again, wiping his sticky hand against the inside of her thigh which quickly cools in the air, making her blush.

“Ready?” His hand is back on her ass moving in soft circles.

“Uh huh,” she says back, feeling hazy.

The next few land on previously untouched skin; the backs of her upper thighs, the sides of her ass. She counts out the numbers as fast as she can, but she can’t stop herself from crying out when it stings.

And then he moves back to where the first three landed; this hurts more than ever. Rey clenches her teeth and trembles through it, unable to stop her legs from shaking. She feels exhausted, wound tight and then released again and again—and yet her head is dizzyingly light with some sort of warmth.

“Pretty girl, all done,” he croons softly, calling her back and carefully soothing her bottom. Rey whimpers and lets him pet her back in smooth strokes, murmuring praise into her ear. _Good girl, so good for me._

“Come on sweetheart,” he coaxes her gently to the carpeted floor so she can sit back on her heels, turned around to face him. Rey blinks up at him wetly, his expression fond as he sits in the leatherbacked chair right in front of where she’s kneeling.

She sits up and wobbles a bit, her balance thrown off by her hands still achingly trapped behind her. She lets herself fall forward so she can tuck her face into his thigh, eyes flicking to the rather large hard-on he’s sporting.

“Please, can I?” She mumbles, nuzzling higher into his thigh, still shivering, her skin too hot. His mouth is open, expression bleak as he stares down at her. “Yes, Jesus— “ as he jumps into actions to unsheath his cock, already sticky with precome at the tip.

Rey waits patiently, not even feeling an ounce of embarrassment, instead just content to sit with her mouth open, sticking out her tongue slightly. She shuffles closer when his hand cups the back of her head, tugging her forward. He pushes two thick fingers against her tongue, pressing down until she gags slightly and looks back up at him.

“Just like that,” he says, pulling out his fingers and cupping her jaw, smearing wetness against her cheek. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Rey nods weakly and mouths pointedly at his cock.

She hears him hiss when she lets her eyes slide partway closed, suckling at just the tip; she feels his cock pulse against her tongue. He tastes so good, he smells so good and Rey is dizzy with it, on her knees feeling very small in front of him.

He’s probably too close because he nearly jerks her off with a loud yelp when she moves to swallow down around the length of him. Rey coughs and sputters, nearly falling, but he yanks her up by her armpits so she’s standing, and then lifts her onto the desk with barely a huff.

Rey leans back on her elbows, hands still tied behind her back as he struggles to tug off his trousers and shirt. She whines, spreading her legs for him and trying to cant her hips up if it means he’ll fuck her sooner.

Finally he’s blessedly stripped, and Rey looks her fill of him, greedy for it. He’s the image of whatever she needs—too tall and large and decidedly masculine, a strange contrast to her own body, soft and tiny in comparison. Rey’s never thought of herself as small or delicate, but when his entire hand engulfs her thigh to push it towards her head, it’s hard not to feel the thrill of it.

“Fuck, baby. You look so good,” he says, sliding his cock against her slit, stealing her slick and bumping up against her clit deliciously. The friction alone nearly makes her come, as close as she’s been for so achingly long. But she wants him inside—to fill her up and feel him come inside of her.

“You’re gonna look so pretty when you get fucked, sweetheart,” he pants, moving his hips slowly, watching her twitch beneath him. “You wanna come, baby?”

“Yessss,” she hisses out, nodding and bleary. “Please, I’ll be good—I’ll do anything, Kylo, please pleaseplease—“

He wraps a fist around his cock, holding the base of it, and pushes into her, watching her expression tighten as he splits her open. She’s warm and wet and squirming on the table, rather defenseless and hopelessly defiled, and _fuck_ if it doesn’t make him harder.

When he’s in to the hilt she lets out a shuddering gasp and wriggles slightly, squeezing him.

“God, Rey. Did bending you over my desk and spanking your ass make you this wet? You must’ve liked it, huh?”

Rey lets out a long, drawn out sound when he pushes into her again, feeling every ridge of his cock rubbing her raw. When he presses a hand down on her abdomen, putting pressure on her where he’s deep, Rey moans his name, so he takes that as a cue to start moving.

He holds her hips still so he can fuck into her as hard as he wants—Rey’s mouth opens soundlessly, her pretty face contorted with pleasure.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” he groans, because she is. He drags her closer and pounds into her—this desk is somehow at the perfect angle, and when Rey arches her back it’s unbelievably good.

“Fuck,” she whimpers. “Kylo—please, please, you’re so deep, ah—“

“Beg me,” he growls. He needs it, to watch her need him.

“Please can I come?” She manages to whine, echoing the text she’d sent him. “Please, please make me come, oh god I want you to— I’ll be _good_ , I promise, please Kylo—“

He fucks into her harder but this time with two fingers slick with his own spit against her clit, rolling it with gentle pressure as fast as she seems to like; her head rolls back, exposing the long line of her neck.

Rey snaps with a little cry and shivers, her body tensing up and her cunt gets impossibly tight. She orgasms for what seems like forever, and he thanks god he gets to watch her face all screwed up like that because of him.

Eventually she heaves a breath and wiggles to get alway from his fingers; her cunt is deliciously soaked now, the place where they’re joined slick and wet With new dampness. He groans and holds her still so he can thrust as deep as possible, chasing that sweetness in his spine that means release. “Gonna come in you, sweetheart. Fill you up good.” Rey just nods up at him, teary-eyed with pleasure.

It feels thick and heady when he finally does, holding her down and feeling his cock jerk inside her. When he pulls out, a string of his own come drips out of her and he nudges it back in with a finger where it belongs.

He’s shaking by the time he nearly collapses on top of her, but he forces his hands to move and untie her wrists so she can lie down properly beside him. She whimpers while he rubs the ache from her shoulders, nuzzling into her neck.

He sighs and lets her curl up in his lap when he moves them both to the chair. She’s still shaky, sniffling into his chest. He drags a lazy hand over her sensitive clit, enough to watch her squirm unhappily.

“Why didn’t you text back?”

Her voice is very small, and very nervous. She’s looking anywhere but him when he tilts his head down to peer at her.

“I didn’t realize I needed to?” He answers carefully, gently jostling her in an attempt to get her to look at him. Why is she so antsy?

She blinks up at him, her face so terribly innocent it makes his heart ache. “Most people would have....said something back. I thought maybe...”

Her voice trails off, oddly sad. Kylo just frowns at her. “What? I’m sorry I didn’t text back then. I thought if you wanted to talk to me—“

Now it’s his turn to feel uneasy. His imagination had run wild during their two days apart, dreaming of late night conversations with her on the phone. Picking apart her brain and hearing her giggle until she got sleepy. Instead he’d gotten radio silence and then—well. If she had wanted their relationship to be purely sexual, so be it. He wouldn’t push it, if it meant he got to spend even just an hour with her doing this.

“Well,” she says awkwardly, not elaborating.

“Well,” he echoes, looking at her button nose.

“I should get going,” she says brusquely hopping up and scrambling to find her clothes, wobbling a bit on unsteady legs.

He scowls at the loss of warmth, feeling discontent prowl in his chest. He wants her to stay, maybe come back to his apartment or get dinner. But Rey is moving fast, lacing up her shoes and buttoning her jeans with gusto like she’s got somewhere to be.

“Are you coming back for Thursday’s session?” He asks, trying not to sound as desperate as he feels.

She pauses where she’s got one arm in her sweater, looking at him and looking, well, _angry_. “Yes,” she answers tersely.

“Can I drive you home?”

“Best not,” she breezes out the office without another word, and he hears her mumbling to herself angrily, slamming the front door behind her.

So Kylo sits in his office till dark, alone and confused and wondering what he’s done to piss off the best lay he’s ever had in his whole godamned life.

Maybe she was angry because he forgot to crack her neck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s up if you use tumblr I’m there @toutlevin it’s mostly garbage white girl aesthetiquë posts


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @the plot: begone vile demon
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry I just wanted to write sick!fic this round, it’s my favorite

Rey gets a UTI almost immediately, which like, yeah. Ok. It was deserved for all the times she’s recently had sex and not gone to pee right after.

She’s currently cursing Dr. Ren and making inhuman noises as she coaxes her body to pee for the forth time that morning. The antibiotics from the university pharmacy she’d taken before her nine am lecture had yet to do anything worthwhile, and even the sympathetic look from the pharm student at the counter was not dulling her pain in the slightest.

Understandably her mood is less than amicable when she sees a text from the asshole himself.

She sighs and grabs her phone from where it’s precariously balanced on the ridge of the toilet paper dispenser, unlocking the screen to see what he’s decided is so important he had finally decided to text her.

 _Hello_.

This sole word infuriates her until the little bubble that means he’s still typing pops up in the corner. She sighs and tries to contain her embarrassment at the photo still lurking above in the conversation. It was so pathetic of her, to be so godamned needy. She’d survived two decades on this planet alone and now suddenly Dr. Ren was so wrapped around her brain she felt like she couldn’t breathe. And that small, hopeful thing that persistently lived inside her soul kept saying “ _what if?_ ”.

She waits— because he stops typing, starts again, and then stops. She thinks maybe he must’ve decided not to text after all because there’s such a long pause.

_You left before I did an adjustment last night. Can you come in this afternoon?_

She swallows, her heart dropping so far into her stomach she almost vomits. Her fingers are frozen above her phone, her brain running through the endless possibilities of responses. Of course—this guy wants to get paid for his time with her. The realization brings a fresh wave of heat behind her eyes. She almost sniffles.

However her neck _hurts_ —as if the UTI wasn’t enough, her back and shoulders have been throbbing stiff all morning, angry with how her arms had been yanked at such an awkward angle last night. She can barely move her head without wincing. The ibuprofen she’d taken was doing a bit to help, but something was still wrong—and she was stupid to have agreed to aggravate the injury.

Even if it was really fucking hot. To be completely at the mercy of those big hands. They way he’d just manhandled her how he liked.

Rey shudders, feeling it in her clit. Totally worth it. She’s got masturbatory-worthy memories for like a solid year now.

She waits until noon to text him back, like and normal human being playing the aloof sorry-I-wanted-to-let-you-think-I-don’t-care-about-you game. It’s totally working. They’re both adults. Rey doesn’t think about him at all.

For about twenty minutes. New record.

* * *

 

_sure ill b there around 5_

Kylo stares at the text, feeling happiness squirm in his gut. He’d thought maybe after last night, when she’d left so abruptly, that perhaps he’d done something spectacularly wrong. The gnawing fear that she wouldn’t come back—that he wouldn’t see her little face, pink from the cold, had compelled him to reach out to her.

And she had answered! After two minutes of squinting at the tiny screen sans glasses, he grins silly-stupid at his phone as his heart soars. Five pm. That was only five hours from now, though lunch hour hardly counted, and then it was only four, which was really just three. Then it would be just a few more half hours to count down until she showed up. She was practically here already.

It puts a spring in his step until precisely the moment Hux walks in the front door, two days before he’s scheduled to return.

* * *

 

Rey has to push her way through the rush hour crowd on the bus, jumping to the curb and feeling it in her neck when she lands. She limps to the office like a wounded animal. Her injury had gotten worse the longer the day wore on until it was nearly unbearable—her splintering migraine only just now starting to ebb away from a dose of excedrin she’d taken with lunch.

She struggles with the heavy door, for once unlocked, similar to her first few visits. Once inside, she can see why—the staff had returned; the blonde woman and a red-headed man with a resting sneer face look up at her when she walks to the counter. Rey swallows nervously, unprepared to have someone see her like this.

“Miss Kenobi,” says a voice she now intimately recognizes—Rey turns on her heel to see Kylo standing in the hallway, looking like he ran there from his office just now.

He seems to take in her wan, pale face and recognizes almost instantly something is wrong. Rey feels so tired—she hiccups and doesn’t even have the energy to gesture to her injury. “‘M neck. I hurt it last night,” she manages to mumble, looking shyly up at him.

His face is overflowing with concern—brows pinched and his lip wobbling a bit. “Alright,” He says, voice gentle. “This way, then. We can talk when I’ve had a chance to see it.” He waves her forward, and stands precariously close when he leads her down the hallway.

Hux and Phasma glance at eachother with raised eyebrows, an exchange entirely lacking witnesses.

* * *

 

“Ow.”

“Hold still.”

“Ow.”

“I’m trying to help—“

“ _Ouch_!”

Rey jerks out of his grasp with a twinge of pain and a scowl. “Don’t do that. I mean it.”

“Do you want me to fix it or not?”

Rey looks down at her shoes, dangling a few inches above the floor where she’s seated on the exam table.

“Rey.”

Rey mumbles something disparaging under her breath, refusing to look up at him. “Fine.”

He puts his hands on her bare skin again, and Rey represses a shiver when the pads of his fingers stroke at the tendons lining her neck. He’d been at it for five minutes now, standing behind her and carefully pressing with sturdy strength every few seconds—it felt like he was needling a bruise, and it was of a far more unpleasant nature than the soreness of her ass from getting spanked.

He hums a bad sound, then an alright one that she takes to mean she’s not going to die. His hand encircles her neck ever so slightly, just tensing. She can hear that he’d stopped breathing, and to be honest, she has too.

“I’m sorry.”

Rey wants to snarl at him but she doesn’t have the energy. Her migraine is making her nauseous.

He walks around the table until he’s standing in front of her, and then when she still refuses to look at anything other than her shoelaces, he kneels in front of her, his hands coming up to gently squeeze her knees. For once it’s not a charged, electric gesture, but instead rather comforting.

Now Rey has to see his face, and when she allows her eyes to flick up to his, something weakens inside of her. It’s because Kylo is wearing an expression that threatens to break her heart—he looks so _sad_ and sorry that Rey hardly even has time to blink before she forgives him.

“I’m—“

“I shouldn’t have told you it was ok, I should have said something when it hurt, but I wasn’t thinking—“

“Rey,” he says, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. His voice is deadly soft, and Rey feels wobbly and fuzzy at the warmth against her skin. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really, really am. I shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. Please tell me I can help you.”

Rey feels a sniffle in her chest, and she looks at her lap to tug at a string sticking out from the hem of her sleeve. It’s mostly to avoid looking at him, because he’s looking at her like—

 _Well_.

“‘M sorry,” she manages to force out when he waits patiently. “It just _hurts_. I want to go home.” Her neck hurts, she has a headache, and her UTI is still bothering her. Rey feels so uncomfortable in her own skin she could scream.

He lets out a soft sigh—one that doesn’t sound resentful but actually rather relieved. Kylo stands up before her, and gently coaxes her to lie down on her back.

Without the heavy pressure of her skull on her neck, Rey already feels much better, letting the bed take most of the weight. She closes her eyes, too weepy to look up at him where he’s moved behind her, and tries not to feel too good when his warm hands cup behind her ears.

His thumb rubs a soothing path into her hair, and Rey realizes that he’s crooning praise at her. It makes her want to twitch, tug his hands elsewhere.

“Ready? This should help a bit.”

Rey hums and relaxes the way he taught her to at the first few appointments. Once she’s slack, she feels him brace his muscles, grunt and then twist—

There’s a series of crackling noises right behind her ears, and the sensation is hard to place, whisper sharp and sweet. Rey gasps out, her face screwing up with the pleasure of it, her neck feeling loose and hot.

“Settle back down,” he coaxes, and she does, whimpering when the other side comes out in just the same way. It’s similar to orgasm, or the sluggishness that accompanied being drunk, she thinks hazily while the fluid between her bones settles. It’s better because now he’s massaging her shoulders, working his thumbs deep into the tissue there, pushing, nice and slow at the knots until they released. The labored sounds he makes are not really helping Rey’s resolve to be mad at him.

He pushes on a tender, tight spot and Rey moans—it’s the junction where her neck meets her upper spine, and it’s been twisted awkwardly and tensed up all day—when his fingers push in, it forces her to relax and Rey has to grit her teeth at the ebb.

“Oh _god_ ,” she mewls once he’s managed to make her pliant. She opens her eyes to blink up at the lights, and catches a glimpse of his face shrouded in shadow.

“That’s it,” He says, his voice pleased, and Rey can help but turn pink at the idea that she’s the one who’s pleased him.

“Thanks,” she manages to warble at him, voice squeaky. He smiles at her, damningly. His eyes crinkle up and his cheeks go puffy. Why did he have to be so handsome?

“Can I buy you dinner?”

Rey glances up at him while she works her way up to stand, testing out her neck that feels brand new. She freezes at the question, her heart in shock. But when she looks up at him, his expression is so awfully hopeful. Rey swallows.

“I....can’t. Tonight. You know.” Rey gestures vaguely in the air. What she wants to say is that food sounds great, but he’s only doing this to fuck her—and that she’ll have to pass until the round of antibiotics is over with.

His head cocks, not understanding her wiggling fingers. “Don’t you like pizza? I was going to order pizza. If you still have a headache we can just eat at my place, I’ll dim the lights.”

A few moments pass—the real reason is right on the tip of her tongue, and irrationally she almost doesn’t want to share how badly she’s in general pain. She doesn’t feel sexy, but rather more like a misshapen potato that needs to sleep for twenty hours. Rey takes a deep breath, her mind darting around before taking the plunge.

“IhaveaUTIandicanthavesex-“ Rey blurts, hoping for the conversation to just end, preferably by letting the floor swallow her alive.

His eyes go wide. “Oh. Ah. _Uhm_.” He pauses, looking more confused than ever. “I thought you liked pizza. And I could give you backrub to help with the tension.”

Rey must be in a perfect alternate universe, because the handsome tree she’s been shagging is currently inviting her over for pizza and a massage and not sex.

“Oh. Ah. Uhm-“ she takes a step forward, slightly invading his personal space. She’s not typically seen as very short, but she only comes up to his collarbone, and something pleasant curls in her stomach.

“That would be good,” she whispers, looking at his marvelous hands. They dwarf her own by miles, and she knows from experience that when he spreads his fingers they’re practically the entire width of her torso. Perfect for massages.

Rey shivers.

She feels vaguely like she did when he had tied her hands up—that strange poised feeling, like vertigo. Perhaps that was what it was like to trust somebody.

* * *

 

He sneaks her out the back while Hux and Phasma are distracted by some budget fiasco, straight into his car and to the pizza place he’d already called in an order to. Rey smiles—full and bright at him when he opens the passenger door and puts the still-warm pizza box in her lap.

It’s so terribly endearing to see her, looking tiny against the length of the cardboard box, grinning and so unlike that girl who had breezed out of his office yesterday with a curtness he didn’t know existed. He almost doesn’t feel fit to drive, he’s so infatuated.

She’s not chatty, likely due to the headache, but she gives him little shy smiles whenever he chances a glance at her. They drive mostly in silence, letting the hum of the engine and the ambient sounds of the city pass them by.

Currently, he’s got her sitting on his couch, in some of his warmer sweats—he’d ordered her to start on her slice while he’d gone to find more ibuprofen in the bathroom. The entire piece is gone by the time he returns, and Kylo is so in love already he almost doesn’t even mind when she wipes her greasy face like an animal with the sleeve of the shirt he’d loaned her.

His heart feels like it’s buzzing in his chest, when she tells him; that she studies engineering because she wants to build ships, that she likes Agatha Christie, that her favorite movies are the old Christmas ones that come on television every year. She grins and tells him about her friend’s cat, BeeBee, with a funny looking ear. She shows him a picture of the cat on Instagram, and when he asks what the little yellow smiley faces are plastered in the comments section, she howls with laughter because he doesn’t know what an emoji is.

It’s like being dunked in the clearest water—Rey doesn’t fear his temper or have preconceptions about him. She bright and fizzling beside him, wrapped up in him and unafraid of it.

He blurts his answers to her questions: that he wanted to study medieval literature but his parents had pushed him to a practical science. About the time he spent in the army. That he makes calligraphy art on the weekends, and about the afternoon his dad’s giant Irish wolfhound Chewie ran away and he had stomped through the park for hours after dark to find him. And Rey grins and says offhandedly that she’d love to meet him, and suddenly he’s filled with a burning need to keep her in his life.

“My favorite holiday is Christmas,” Rey explains, “and no, not just ‘cause of the movies. I like the ice skating too. There was this rink near where I grew up that let kids in for free after school—“

“Where did you grow up?”

Her expression dims only for a moment. “Past the river, near where the old coal plant used to be?”

Kylo frowns. He’s lived here for a few years now, and he’s fairly sure everything out that way is abandoned.

“In a foster home,” she manages to stutter , obviously uncomfortable. “I don’t think it’s there anymore.”

He blinks, and says something very stupid. “So that explains the insurance then.”

Rey looks up at him sharply, and god, this is where he’s always fucking up, putting his foot in his mouth, never saying what normal people say. “Uh. Just because. Most kids your age are still...on their parent’s insurance,” he finishes lamely.

His ears are burning. And Rey won’t look at him. He’s fucked up so bad again—

“I’m sorry,” it comes out as a whine. “I meant to say—“ his jaw works uselessly, but he can’t think because there’s nothing to really to say to a girl like this.

“Right,” she says, mostly to herself. Her entire face is red. He blindly reaches out before he can stop himself and yanks her across the couch to tug her against his chest. Rey is stiff, but then slowly relaxes into it, warm in his arms.

“I didn’t know that.” He breathes, carefully tucking her hair back.

“When I was a kid I used to think they’d come back. Holding a torch for them. But I’m alright now. I think,” she says quietly, muffled into his collarbone. “Really.”

Kylo hums, sliding a hand down her back and nudging her hips so that she’s in a more comfortable position, laying mostly on top of him. Rey’s breathing has gone soft and sweet and even though she smells like garlic he’s overwhelmed with the urge to hold her tightly.

“Thanks,” she mumbles into his collarbone. “For not thinking—I’m weird, I guess.”

“You should sleep,” he murmurs after they sit in a companionable silence for a few minutes. Rey’s little hands are twisted in his shirt, and she rubs her nose into his chest, drowsy.

She hums an affirmation-like noise but makes no effort to move—Kylo smiles into her hair and carefully gathers her up into his arms to carry her to bed. Rey has her eyes half-lidded, her head resting against his shoulder.

By the time he’s tucked her in, Rey’s face is pale and slack, her hair rather limp around her face. He presses his palm to her forehead and winces; she’s got a low grade fever, her skin already too warm, the back of her neck damp with sweat. Kylo resolves to convince her to stay in bed tomorrow—he feels guilty for feeding her pizza and not something even remotely healthy.

She looks so sick and small in his bed, and Kylo wonders how someone could have ever left her behind. He can’t even get up, afraid to look away even for a second. He gently rubs her back as she sleeps, watching the knot of her creased brows slowly relax.

He teeters into sleep, in his clothes on top of the blankets, curled around her and wishing he was better at this. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *sprinkles italics on the trash writing* see now it’s art. No takebacks.

Rey has to drag herself from unconsciousness—it’s unbelievably unpleasant. She feels so clammy and cold and disgusting, and even though she’s under a mound of blankets, she’s freezing. Her headache is back, a dull thud behind her eyes. She feels like she got hit by a train or a particular vengeful truck.

The only salvageable thing is that the mattress she’s on is so comfortable, despite her aching body. And the smell, so unlike her own—masculine and overwhelming in the best way. Rey fights a smile and curls herself up, relishing the soft world around her, a soothing balm to her hurts.

Oh _shit_.

She had slept over at his house and _god_ knows what time it is. Rey springs into action, trying to free herself from the mangled blankets and sheets. She hisses between her teeth at the cold air of the empty room as her upper half is exposed, the sweat on her back creating an uncomfortable chill.

Rey rolls over and lets out a very undignified squeak when she spies the digital clock on his bedside—it’s almost ten in the morning, and she is so _dead_. She’s missed her first lecture already—why is she so _irresponsible_?

“ _What_ are you doing?”

Rey yelps in surprise, swiveling her head to see Kylo walking across the room, wearing his rumpled clothes from last night. His hair is sticking up in odd directions and his face is creased with sleep. He looks delectable.

“I’m _late_!” She croaks impatiently, surprised at how groggy her voice sounds. Her aching limbs are not cooperating with her mission to get out of bed, and the blankets are twisting her ankle back into the tempting depths of comfort.

He’s by the bed in an instant, looking cross. “You’re _sick_ , is what you are.” He grips her shoulders and puts weight on them until she’s flat on the mattress, scowling up at him. Their faces are close together like this, and Rey’s heart skips lightly, because he smells like sleep and coffee.

“I have to go to class—“ Rey is cut off in order to twist to the side and choke out a hacking cough that makes her pounding head feel like lead. When she’s done, her face is crinkled up in pain. Kylo just raises an eyebrow.

“ _And_ work,” she adds weakly, bringing her hands up to lamely tug at his wrists.

Kylo snorts. “Nice try. You need to stay in bed,” he says sternly, motioning for her to scoot back over to what is apparently _her_ side of the bed. Rey’s stomach flip flops, trying hard not to think about how nice it is to be cared for. She’s never let herself dream of being a person with a side of the bed. She covers her flushed cheeks by tucking the blankets up to her nose.

“Take this,” He says, motioning for her to sit up slightly—he hands her a glass of water and her next dose of antibiotics and ibuprofen, watching over her as she swallows. Her throat burns where his gaze brushes over it, and Rey can’t help but feel liquid pool in her abdomen.

“Why aren’t you at work?” She asks, handing him back the glass.

His fingers brush hers like electricity as he takes it. “I had something better to do,” he answers nonchalantly, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

Rey frowns at this, wondering what she’s holding him up for. Oil change on the car? Jury duty? Maybe his taxes.

“You hungry?” He inquires, walking to the dresser and opening the drawer to rifle around in the contents.

“Always,” she answers abruptly, the way she usually does. Even though she’s still slightly nauseous, the pull of food was ever present in her head. She watches him pull out a pair of sweatpants and a soft-looking shirt.

“I’ll make you some toast, and you can have some fruit too if you’re up for it,” He says while stripping off the clothing from yesterday he’d obviously slept in. Rey goes pink, wondering what happened last night—her own memory was hazy, though she did recall shutting her eyes while her head laid on his chest in the living room. He’d been so warm, and the rhythm of his breathing so comforting.

Rey watches as he bares his skin rather perfunctorily; admires the broadness of his frame and his actual honest to god abs. His trim waist fills space so wonderfully, and Rey frowns when his shirt settles over his head and covers his lovely biceps. Pity.

“Sweetheart?”

Oops. Had he been talking? “Yeah?”

He pauses to look at her, which is nice because his face is handsome. “Fruit?”

“.....sounds good?”

He smiles wryly and comes back to her side of the bed—Rey wonders what he’s going to do for a moment—

He presses a warm, dry kiss to her forehead, cupping her jaw to hold her still. He leans back, looking at her so softly, and then neatly tucks the covers up her torso. “Go back to sleep,” He says with a small jerk of his chin. “I’m going to call your work and tell them you’re out sick. I’ll wake you when the food is ready.”

What a strange man. “Fine!” Rey calls after him, scooting lower under the covers where the bed is still retaining heat. The adrenaline from realizing she was late was starting to wear off, and now she felt heavy again. “But only because I let you!”

* * *

 

Rey is pliant and drowsy when she wakes the second time, probably due to the medicine he’d given her. She squirms unhappily when he pries her from her cocoon, and her face droops as she munches on toast. It’s the longest he’s seen her take to eat anything.

Eventually she’s halfway draped into his lap, her head heavy against his shoulder. He coaxes her to drink at least a glass of water, then wipes a cold cloth against the back of her neck to rid her of dried sweat.

Rey moans at that and shudders, her eyes closed, and for a moment his mouth goes dry before his brain promptly reminds him she’s ill, and at least half of it is due to... _activities_ he had participated in. He’s worried about her fever, even though it’s already improving, and he feels safe enough to rule out a kidney infection.

She was likely just bone tired and had gotten sick as a result—Kylo frowns and looks down at her, letting his hand drift down to push back her baby hairs on her forehead. Rey goes to school, works, is injured, and from the few stories he’s heard, is like any other college student, spending her weekends at the bar. She’s a smart kid, but Kylo supposes that it all caught up with her at once and took her by surprise.

So he’s content to watch her sleep and tries not to think about how creepy and weird it is. What sane person is totally content and ecstatic to just be around a girl?

* * *

 

Rey wakes up a second time to the entirely pleasant feeling of someone gently rubbing circles into her scalp. She finds herself squirming and making little noises, curling harder into the wall of heat beside her.

Until the wall _chuckles_.

Disgruntled, Rey lifts her head out of the cocoon and tries to find the source of the noise, blinking into the dim light of the room. Kylo is above her where he’s propped sitting against the headboard, a soft expression on his face. He’s wearing his glasses, and they slide down his nose a bit when he leans closer to her.

“How do you feel?” He asks, his voice heavy with disuse. Rey blinks and suppresses a shudder, because some part of her lizard brain was entirely willing to spread her legs for him in exchange for taking care of her. Rey shakes her head to dislodge that train of the thought and moves to sit up.

She feels substantially lighter than before—the painkillers seemed to have finally kicked in and she no longer felt like death, which was a start.

She clears her throat but she still sounds gravely when she answers. “Much better. I must’ve just needed loads of sleep.” She takes stock of the room—he’d been reading in bed beside her in pajamas and mismatched socks. The tv flickers with images of CSPAN but with the volume muted. He’d also drawn the curtains so it was pleasantly dim, but cracked the window to let the air in as it rustled the curtains.

Rey decides to take a leap of faith and snuggles in beside him—he’s radiating firmness and warmth and Rey is all too happy to be greedy and press her cold feet to his calves. He smiles at her and lifts an arm to tuck her into his side, his hand landing on the far side of her ribs and holding her gently, as if she might break.

Rey feels unwanted tears prick at her eyes as she rests her cheek on his stomach, quickly blinking them away. Maybe this was _wrong_ —to steal his affection because she was so obviously desperate for it. Was she tricking him into this? He had taken the day off of work to sit with her and make sure she was alright—that was too much to ask of anyone, and she hadn’t even _asked_. But she hadn’t said no, either. She was just wasting his time—he’d be angry soon—and she’d be alone again, like she was meant to be—

His hand moves absently, rubbing soothing circles into her side, and Rey is so taken aback that her thoughts stop their dark spiral and her heart rate slows.

“What time is it?” She squeaks once she’s regained her sense of self in her own body.

He hums, turning a page in his book and sliding his hand back up to her hair to rub at the base of her neck. Her toes curl at the sensation as he answers. “Three-thirty. Are you hungry? I can’t give you more ibuprofen for a few more hours. And we should probably take your temperature—“

Her stomach chooses that moment to make a sound akin to a Wookiee, and he snorts again, gently tickling behind her ears to tease. “Well, I can take a hint,” he says with a tone of amusement, sliding further down the blanket to wrap her up in his arms and drag his mouth at her neck.

Rey goes blissful in a second, her thoughts turning nice and hazy as he rolls her over on her back—the air is pushed out of her lungs when he settles his weight on her, and Rey hates that she loves it, the demanding presence and physicality he so easily demonstrates, forcing her to be so headily aware of him.

She’s too warm and still achy from being sick—and yet somehow Rey feels a spike of arousal at the thought of getting fucked like this, her limbs already shaky. It’s nearly painful how badly she wants it, wants to reward him somehow, and it makes her face scarlet.

“Ah,” He says, taking in her glassy eyes inches from his own. “Chicken soup?”

Rey sucks in a breath and nods.

He smiles and kisses the corner of her mouth. “I’ll toast some bread too.”

* * *

 

He tries really hard not to think about it, how she’d gotten all pliant and soft beneath him, eyes wide when he’d kissed her. How she’d slept curled into his side, shivering in her sleep until he’d started rubbing her back.

It was too much, to imagine one person could be his in that way—so intimately trusting. And it was rather unbelievable that he could be careful with her in return—he was never careful about anything. He would ruin it as soon as it started.

He sighs and stirs the pot again so the celery doesn’t stick to the bottom. He wishes it was his mother’s recipe—he knows the stuff from a can he’s reheating won’t compare. Rey would prefer his mom’s soup. She’d be so much happier.

He has fresh bread at least, which is toasting in the oven. When he leans down to peer at it he catches the sight of his reflection in the glass—his hair was flat with sleep and as a result his ears have been sticking out all morning. He smothers a groan lest Rey hear and tries to run his hands through it—

“How’s the soup coming?”

He chokes and startles, clambering up to see Rey lightly step into the kitchen—his breath catches, because she’s made use of his abandoned sweatshirt and the fabric only reaches her mid thigh. He knows this because she’s taken off the flannel sleep pants he’d loaned her, and the tan skin now on display as she hops into a chair at the island makes his mouth go dry. If he cranes his neck a bit, he can almost tell she’s not wearing underwear—

He abruptly remembers that she had asked him a question, though he wonders about her true intentions as there’s a particularly sneaky smile on her face as she regards him, chin propped up with one hand, dwarfed by the sleeve of his clothing.

“I would have brought you a bowl,” he grumbles, turning off the burner and moving to the cabinet to find a cutting board for the bread, willing his half-hard cock to relax.

She yawns, a gesture that shows all of her sharp little teeth. “I don’t want to get your bed all crumbly. It’s perfect as is.”

 _Perfect as is_ , he thinks, his mind tumbling the words around until all he hears is the soft lilt of her voice.

* * *

 

Rey has to be dragged back to bed—after eating, Kylo is content to let her sleep off the last of her exhaustion for a few more hours until dinner. Rey protests, trying to dart around him playfully despite her fever—until he scoops up her squirming limbs and carries her back to bed.

“You can’t tell me you’re not sick,” he admonishes, taking in her flushed face. Her hair is starting to stick up in odd places but it’s only all the more endearing. Maybe he should give her a bath. She’d like that, probably preen for him in the warm, clean water.

“I feel better, at least. You’re good at this whole thing,” she snipes up at him. Her eyes are crinkled up and she’s radiating happiness. Kylo swallows and tries not to let it show on his face how badly he needed to hear that.

She gives him a toothy grin and asks to be dropped in the bathroom, before shooing him off and closing the door.

He smiles at the soft, ambient sounds of her rustling around, climbing into bed himself and thumbing open his book. When she emerges, her hair has been combed through and her teeth brushed. She crosses the room with near soundless steps and Kylo scoots over to let her have room—

Except Rey climbs into the bed and promptly sits down right on his lap. Her thighs bracket his own, and when he finally glances up to see her face, her expression is a sweet little half smile that looks entirely too mischievous.

“You’re sick,” his voice trails off as he drops his book to let his hands roam her hips, sliding up to her waist and squeezing gently. It hasn’t been easy keeping his hands in respectable places the past twenty four hours.

“I’m not contagious,” she wiggles closer, sitting right on top of his cock and grinding down over it. “And my UTI seems to be gone.” She leans closer, pressing a wet kiss to his throat, flicking her tongue out ever so gently to graze his skin. “You took such good care of me, _Doctor_.” Her voice has dropped to a heady whisper, sweet and dark.

He spends a little while just making himself busy with kissing her—she’s still burning up in his lap, her skin too warm to be entirely healthy. Eventually he’s got her panting into his mouth, soft little noises of want tumbling out of her.

He nips at her mouth. “We don’t have to, sweetheart—“ he coaxes, voice gentle. But Rey’s hands tug at his hair and she rocks determinedly forward in his lap again, definitely not wearing underwear. It makes them both hiss.

“ _Nooo_ ,” she whines, blindly mouthing at his throat. “I want to come— please, ah, I want _you_ to feel good—“

He’s physically incapable of saying no now, not after that. Rey is too sweet and small sitting astride his hips, trying to eek out her orgasm from him. That she trusts him to make her like this, push her to the edge and bring her back down.

And he is a doctor, despite what most people think of chiropractors. He knows the rush of endorphins will flood her system and flush out at least some of the remaining aches. She’ll feel better and he’ll probably get her to go back to sleep afterwords, safe in his bed.

He slides his hands up her sweatshirt to cup her dainty breasts—he doesn’t pull it off, not eager to watch her shiver at the cold air. He hums against her mouth and watches her twist and moan, her nipples hard beneath his fingers. He pinches them until he coaxes our a reaction from her; Rey’s face screws up tight and she makes a little breathless noise, twisting in his lap.

When he’s satisfied that she’s slightly too sensitive to take any more, he drags his hand down her stomach until he reaches the apex of her thighs. Rey sighs contentedly and cants her hips slightly.

She gasps when he sinks a finger inside of her—she’s burning inside, the heat intoxicating. Her fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders and her head tips back, exposing the line of her neck.

“Oh, Kylo,” she sighs his name like it’s a prayer, and his spine tingles. He smiles and pushes a second finger inside of her, and crooks them, pushing hard against the soft spot inside of her—

Rey shudders and squeaks, her fingernails digging into his skin. “Ah, harder— _Kylo_ —“

“ _Fuck,_ Rey, so perfect,” he says, splaying his other hand against her neck. Oh, she’s lovely, riding his fingers and saying his name. But he wants more, so he pulls his fingers out despite her aching whine and gently tips her onto her back until she’s a mess of limbs on his bed.

“You gonna be good?” He asks, putting his hands on her knees and spreading them apart. “You gonna let me take care of you, sweet thing?”

Rey bites her lip and nods, her cheeks flushed with fever. She’s never looked more attractive—it ripples beneath his skin, the knowledge that he’s kept her in bed all day, wearing his clothes and about to get fucked by him, how good she is for him even though she’s sick.

He pushes up the sweatshirt to her belly, exposing all the soft skin there, and he can’t resist scraping his teeth at the sensitive parts of her thighs and watching her flinch.

Rey tugs at his hair, half sweet and half grumpy. “Kylo,” she says with a note of urgency, her expression glazed and foggy.

“What do you want, little one?” He asks, flicking his eyes up to hers and kissing her hipbone. Her cunt is pleasantly bare, pink and waiting for his cock. Her clit sits patiently at the top, and when Rey strains in his grip, he lightly bumps the tip of his nose against it.

Rey must be desperate because even that makes her keen for more. “Come on, baby,” He murmurs.

“I want you to make me come,” she answers when it becomes apparent he won’t move forward without one. “Please? I was good—all day, I promise—“

She was, wasn’t she? Did everything he said. He thinks this just as he presses the flat of his tongue against her clit. Rey goes boneless, her legs falling to either side of the mattress as she breathes through it.

“Oh,” she hiccups, canting up towards his mouth. He takes that as his cue to move faster, and it’s wonderful how soft she is here, the taste of her so concentrated. He tries to stop from smiling but it’s hard when he knows he’s the one making her come.

It hardly takes long before she’s trembling beneath him, the shaking of her muscles beneath his palms welcome as he watches her get higher and higher. Her forehead is damp with sweat as she pants into the air, her nervous hands twisting in the sheets. She gurgles soft noises, blinking wetly at the ceiling— reaching out and trying to do _something_ —

Kylo angles his elbow to pin her leg down but frees a hand to push two digits back inside of her and push the pads of his fingers against her sweet spot at a near punishing pace. He feels her tighten around his fingers in response, so, so _close_ —

Rey cries, wiggling beneath him and coming on his tongue, a filthy little mess. It’s beautiful and overwhelming to watch. He lets her settle in the aftermath, the expression on her face blissed out and already sleepy again.

“Rey,” he pants out, painfully hard. She just bobs her head at him, arms outstretched and beckoning him over her.

He groans, lining himself up and pushing inside of her—now that they’re skin to skin in near totality, his chest pressed down against hers, their legs tangled; he feels the radiating warmth of her, burning his fingertips as he plants himself at a good angle. Rey moans when he’s fully seated inside of her, her cunt fluttering still with the aftershocks of orgasm.

Her eyes are fever bright, blinking up at him and straining towards his mouth where he’s hovering over her.

“Alright,” he murmurs, trying to soother her frantic twitching as she’s filled, brushing hair off of her sweaty forehead. “Alright, baby. Ready?”

“Uh huh,” she answers, sounds nearly drunk. She loops her arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to plant a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He moves his hips, the slide of her pussy on his cock tight enough to be painful. He huffs and steadies a hand over her abdomen, putting pressure right where he can feel the slight bump of his cock inside her.

Rey makes a strange noise and squirms—the sensation must be too much or too new, but either way she hiccups and nearly scrambles away from him before taking a deep breath and steadying down instead to take it.

He wonders if she can come again, but Rey is boneless beneath him, tiny and precious and so, so good to let him fuck her. He fucks her slower than he really wants, mindful that she’s not really in top form. But she seems content to lay beneath him, running her nails into his hair and hiccuping his name between noises that sound like begging.

“Rey,” he gasps, moaning into her neck. “Baby, please—“

Rey just nods, still hazy with fever, somehow understanding. “Kylo, want you to come, please—“

“ _No_ ,” he grinds out. “ _Ben_ — say it. Say my name, Rey.”

Rey frowns, blinking up at him. “Kylo?”

“Ben is my real name,” he hisses. “Please, Rey.”

Her face twists in confusion, overheated and wary. “Ben,” she burbles out at the next thrust. “Ben,” soft at first, then louder. “ _Ben_! Oh— _please_ come in me—“

He groans, his temple hitting her sternum as he comes with a jerk of his hips.

By the time he lifts his head the color still hasn’t dissipated from her cheeks—Rey is half asleep in a puddle beneath him, blinking at him in a fever-induced haze.

“Sweetheart?”

“Ben,” she whispers at him, a sleepy smile on her face. She traces a lazy finger across his cheek and settles on his lips. “‘S ok, Ben. Wanna go t’bed?”

“Yeah,” He croaks out, reaching up to cup her cheek. “Let’s go to bed, baby.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao as always you can find my dumbass self on tumblr dot com @toutlevin


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